A Brother's Devotion
by taekwondogrl006
Summary: After Dally and Johnny die, Ponyboy passes out. But what happens while he is unconcious? This is a Darry/Sodapop POV story, about how far a brother might go to stick up for his family.
1. He Hurts, I Hurt

A Brother's Devotion

I don't own The Outsiders, as much as I wish I did. Credit for these marvelous characters goes to the wondrous S.E. Hinton.

Chapter 1- He hurts, I hurt

~Soda POV~

It was 2 A.M. and I was in the last place I wanted to be. The hospital. Hell, I wouldn't even wish this on a Soc. Well, I might. It depended. I sighed as I settled into a chair, dragging it in to be closer to Ponyboy's bed. I looked around the hospital room they had stuck him in yesterday. It was basic, and practical, I guess if you're into that kind of junk. It had whitewashed walls, a white ceiling with spidery cracks skittering across it, and a shiny, tiled floor that reflected my gaunt face back up at me every time I looked down. Boring, useless, and the cleanest place I had ever seen. The only color was in the faded, green blanket someone had draped across Pony's thin frame. Tucking it in closer to him, I sighed. He was still too skinny from his time at Jay Mountain. But no matter what, he wouldn't eat.

Every time he was semi-conscious, we tried, begged, pleaded, _anything_, to try and make him swallow something, anything. But he would only turn his head away, saying something about baloney, sweating shining on his forehead, his eyes glassy and expressionless. It made no sense. But I couldn't argue with someone who couldn't even answer back. Hell, I couldn't even be strict with him usually. All he had to do was fix me with his big, deep green eyes, and I couldn't fight them. It was like punching a straw doll, useless. I was a sucker for my little brother. He was my weakness, like Louis Lane was Superman's. What was it called again? I searched my fried brain. Oh yeah, kryptonite. Pony was my own personal kryptonite. Someday it might get me killed. I knew that. But better me than Ponyboy, god forbid.

I felt the muscle in my jaw twitching as I looked at Ponyboy, lying white and still on the hospital bed, bruises covering his face and neck, a long cut on his temple. I ran my hand through his thick hair, wincing as I worked my fingers through the caked dirt and mud. The blond dye was still there, under the mess and gunk. It probably would be for a long time. Would the scars on his heart last as long? I hoped not. Because if Pony broke, I knew I would, too.

Why was he here? It should be me, lying on the bed. He didn't deserve this. I knew that. Pony was the dreamer, the one who watched sunsets and didn't fight, who kept me whole, kept me sane. The little spitfire that wasn't afraid to take me down a notch or two if I got shirty or too cocky. Pony. My little brother. I shifted in the hard plastic chair, rubbing my face roughly with my hands. Christ, I needed a shave, and a hot shower. But there would be time for that later. I would take a shower when Pony was there to nag me about self-hygiene or whatever it was called. It would be worth it ten-fold then. He choked uneasily, his face pulling taunt as he twitched.

"Pone? Ponyboy?" I asked hopefully, placing a hand gently on his face, trying to smooth out the lines that creased with pain, tracing the freckles I had looked at for the last fourteen years. _Please, please, for me, wake up. We need you. Come back. _The dumb complicated machine he was hooked up to bleeped annoyingly in response, the stupid little squiggly lines jumping with his heartbeat. I ground out a hard laugh between my teeth. My little brother's _life_ was showing up on that stupid little screen.

His life was so much more than that.

That plastic black box of shit didn't show his pain when mum and dad died, when the police showed up at our door, twisting their hats between their hands and shifting from side to side, their faces blank, when he crumbled at my feet sobbing as I held the doorframe for support, my vision warping with tears.

It didn't show his laughter when we played football, when Two-Bit cracked a new joke or Johnny got sassy, when Dal let down his guard and joked around, acting his age, 17, instead of the untamable hood he was, underneath.

When Dar or I earned one of his beautiful, happy smiles, one where his guard was down and he wasn't worrying about school or arguing with Darry, or that he was going to die on the streets, young and alone. When he was simply being Ponyboy, the fourteen year-old he should be, the one he _deserved _to be. Those smiles took me back to when he didn't have to be responsible, didn't have to play grown-up along with me and Dar, worrying about the goddamn bills or if the state was going to separate us, splintering our family, and my heart with it, a little further apart.

I was going to kill the Soc that hurt him.

* * *

I hope that was a good first chapter!!! Please review! Flames aren't welcome, but if they come, I'll read them anyhow….promise on Sodapop! Oh, and I listened to Ugly by the Exies obsessively while writing this, if anyone cares. No? Ah, well. Oh yeah, I'm looking for a kind beta to put up with me and help shape my jumbled ideas, so please please PLEASE pm me if you are interested!!!


	2. Eradicate

A Brother's Devotion

I don't own the Outsiders. I am merely playing in the sandbox of the wonderful world of greasers.

Chapter 2- Eradicate

~Darry's POV~

I ran my hand over my head as I filled my coffee cup again, at the small coffee station, the little sugar bowls spilled, intermixed with the stunted little throw-away straws some Soc must have invented because they were too damn lazy to wash the spoons they used to stir their coffee with. I smiled a little at the thought of a Soc actually inventing something useful to greasers. What an idea.

I was trying to stay awake along enough to last out the most recent spin of event that had been thrown at us for god-knows what reason. This hands-out topped all others as the most hellish week of my life. I thought of my youngest brother, lying in a cold hospital bed two floors above, his vitals kept track of by a series of plastic boxes. Sodapop stood watchful guard over Pony. I knew he would rather die than see his little brother hurting, which was exactly what was happening. Pony was hurting, bad. And I could do nothing but watch as my family fell apart. This whole damn situation was severely messed up.

Walking away from the coffee machine, I sat down at one of counters in the hospital cafeteria, the stool creaking loudly as I gingerly settled into it. Looking around, I inhaled the heavenly steam off my drink, trying to regain some of my energy. It was almost empty, save for the poor bastard running this place and a few stragglers, also huddled over cups of coffee, desperate for the caffeine fix. But it was only about 3 A.M. or so, understandably. Placing the steaming cup of brew on the table, I buried my face between my hands, trying to rub out the worries that crowded my head that made my head throb and my vision blur.

_Yesterday-before Pony went to the Hospital…._

_Soda and I were in the bedroom he and Pony shared, hovering over our sick little brother. We had frantically carried him home last night after Dally died, after Pony blacked out. It had taken us two hours of tears, and yelling matches with some nosy fuzz before we were allowed to leave the "crime scene" as they had the nerve to call it. We had to leave Dal there, alone, with the nosy police men and spinning lights and their cold hearts. Away from people who cared, who didn't want to see him die young and hurting and alone under a single light on a dark, wet street in a JD neighborhood. He was 17, for fuck's sake. He should have had the chance to grow up and grow old, get a job and have a picket-fenced house and kids and a family who loved him. But he never would. Just like Tim and the Brumely boys, who cared nothing further than the next drug bust or rumble. _

_That hurt almost as bad as when Pony collapsed, his head hitting the ground with a sickening crack as my world crumbled. It was bad enough that the world had seen fit to get rid of Johnny and Dally in the same night, but worse that Pony had finally cracked. He had reached his breaking point. It had been almost a whole day since he fell, and I didn't think he was getting any better. He seemed to be getting paler and more restless as the hours dragged on. Christ, now I wished I had taken the first-aid class at the Y instead of the gymnastics course. Maybe then Pony wouldn't look like he was on death's doorstep. Maybe I could help him, instead of trying to make him drink and mopping his head with a tattered washcloth. Soda looked at me, his dark eyes serious, a deep frown marring his handsome face. He ran a gentle hand over Pony's forehead, his fingers ghostly white in the moonlight streaming through the open window, the cool air washing in, making me shiver. We had opened it in hopes it might bring Ponyboy's fever down, but so far it had done nothing but turn Soda an' me into popsicles. Pony shuddered, his head turning side to side, muttering uneasily as he tossed, twisting his bedsheets. _

"_Dar, he don't look so good an' he still feels pretty hot," Soda said quietly, passing a cool washcloth over Pony's sweating head. Pony flinched away from the sodden cloth, his shudders turning into full-out shaking, his teeth chattering. His lips were tainted blue with cold, and I couldn't get one of the deeper cuts on his forehead to stop bleeding, no matter what I did. A huge bruise stretched the left side of his face, along with a cut lip and a black eye. He was bad off. I was no doctor, I knew that. Hell, Soda knew that. And Soda usually didn't know serious stuff if it pranced in front of him, naked and singing the ABC's. _

_I heard frantic footsteps thudding heavily on the porch and I tensed, my eyes flickering up to meet Soda' as he heard the door creak opens. I motioned for him to stay, and he nodded, grasping Pony's hand and watching with tense eyes as I picked up his old baseball bat, holding it lightly in my right hand. I crept to the door, pulling it open a crack and peeking out warily. The last thing I expected, as usual, happened. I should be used to it by now. I expected a mugger, the fuzz, anything but a bawling Two-Bit to come flying into the house, the screen door nearly ripped off its hinges in his haste. _

"_It's-my-fault-rumble-Ponyboy-fever-aspirin-my fault- But I promised!" he blubbered, flinging himself at me. I dropped the baseball bat in surprise as Two-Bit threw himself at me, his shoulders shaking. I tried to comfort our hysterical friend. Soda, mouth open, watched this go down, his eyes stunned. Clearly, this was the last thing he expected, too. Not letting go of Pony's hand, he grabbed the washcloth and began sponging off his head again, whispering to him quietly, still keeping his eyes fixed on Two-Bit. We weren't strong enough to deal with anyone else freaking out. We needed Steve and Two-Bit strong. For us. _

"_Ah, Two-Bit?" I said gently, wincing as I tried to pry him off me without freaking him out any further. Glory, the kid was stronger than he looked. If he held on any tighter I'd need a blasted crowbar to remove him. "I kinda need my ribs. Now, what about Pony?" I asked, leading him to an old milk crate. He looked up at me through red-rimmed, watery gray eyes, then back down at his hands, torn about something. Clearly, something was eating him alive. That was surprising, considering Two-Bit didn't even have a conscious when it came to wasting Socs or stealing. I knew he had stolen his butterfly knife without blinking an eye, and I had been in on bull sessions with him than I cared to admit, and even I cringed at some of the things he had done. But this hit closer to home. Pony was his little buddy, I knew. Two-Bit liked to come off tough and uncaring sometimes but I knew he was fiercely loyal to the gang. And he had the biggest heart of anybody I knew, except my brothers. _

"_It's my fault," Two-Bit whispered, dropping his head into his hands. "He didn't feel well, and-and I promised not to tell you, Darry. He said he was okay, that he'd take some painkillers and be done with it. I'm so sorry, Darry. It's my fault the kid is- is…broken" Two-Bit said with all traces of humor and joking dead from his voice, his shoulders hunched. Never, in all the time I had known him had he looked so small, so helpless. It scared me something awful. Soda's head snapped up at this, the light in his eyes deadly. Even I knew not to mess with Soda about Pony. He would do anything for his kid brother. _

"_He. Is. NOT. Broken," Soda said; his voice lethal as he finally dropped Pony's hand, striding over to stand nose to nose with Two-Bit, his hands curled into fists clenching and unclenching with his uneven breath, his nose flaring. The cloth landed, forgotten, on the broken rocking chair. I knew he was thinking about that damned Soc that had gotten hold of Pony, who kicked his head and ribs without mercy, not even caring that he was still a kid. He was thinking about the dreams that used to torture him when mum and dad died, the dreams that left his screams ripping the night, his scared, wet eyes turning to me for reassurance. Hell, I was still a kid myself. I didn't know what to do. All I knew right now is that Soda was dangerously close to his own breaking point. I had to hold him back. I knew that. I had to be strong, again. When would it be my turn to be the weak one?_

"_He's not-he can't be.." Soda stuttered again, sounding a lot less sure of himself. He turned to me, eyes glistening. "He can't be broken…" Soda sobbed, crumpling by the bed, laying his head on Pony's arm, his tears making Pony's arm shine. "I can't take it if he is…god, Dar. What happened to us?" He cried, tears streaming down his cheeks as he touched Pony everywhere he could reach, reassuring himself that he was still there, that his heart was still beating. But for how much longer if we didn't get him to a hospital?_

_I grabbed Soda, held him tight as he shook with sobs. "It's okay, little buddy." I said, being brave for all of us. I gathered Pony, tugging Soda along with me gently. He followed, no more fight in him than a rag doll. Trudging out the hallway, I swiped my keys off the table, juggling the limp boy over one shoulder, my keys in my hand. I spoke over my shoulder to Two-Bit, who was following us like a lost puppy, his expression dazed as he stumbled along, tripping over his feet. _

"_Two-Bit, go home. Get some sleep. I have a feeling you're gonna need it," I sighed, locking the door behind us and flipping off the porch lights, motioning for Soda to open the gate. He did so, his motions mechanical, lifeless. Hopping into the car Soda opened his arms for Pony to be put into them, his eyes protective and fierce as they looked at him, limp and dazed. They spoke volumes about his love for our little brother. Opening the truck door, rusty paint flakes fluttering to the wet road, I loaded Pony into the car, onto Soda's lap. Soda grasped him, cradling him to his chest, stroking his matted hair. Pone tossed again, muttering Soda's name quietly. Bending his head, Soda talked back to him quietly, his words blending together in a soothing hum, his eyes intent on his little brother's face, red-gold hair mixing with blonde as Soda tilted his head over Pony's. I felt my mouth tighten slightly as I looked over at my brothers, feeling left out. Why wasn't he crying out my name? Didn't he love me as well? I shook this thought off quickly. He was delirious. He didn't know what he was saying. I got in the driver's seat and turned on the car as it rumbled to life. We pulled out, and headed for the hospital. The drive felt hours long, instead of the fifteen minutes it really was. Pony murmured, tossing restlessly. Soda clamped a gentle, but firm hand to his head to keep him from hurting himself further on the window. _

"_Dar- Darry. Darry? We're there." Soda said, his worried voice yanking me from my trace. I pulled my hands from the steering wheel, opening the door and turning to grab Pony. Soda was on the other side of the car, trying to pull Pony out by himself. His elbow hit the frame the same time as his head did, and he almost dropped Pony. _

"_Ouch! Jesus, that smarts," he cussed, holding his head with one hand while supporting Pone with the other. I snorted quietly, trying not to anger Soda. He looked up with a grudging smile. _

"_You can laugh," He said quietly, fighting a small smile. "It's kinda funny." Coming around to his side of the car, I dragged Pony out, grunting quietly at his 100-plus pounds. He was still light and bony, but he was still somewhat sturdy. Slinging him over my shoulder, I locked the truck and headed into the hospital to save our little brother. To save our family. _

Ponyboy was hurt.

I knew that.

Sodapop was dying with every minute Pony was here.

I knew that.

We were in a hellhole with no way out.

I knew that.

I couldn't eradicate the past, couldn't save my brothers alone.

I knew that.

But that didn't mean I had to live with it. Throwing a dollar on the counter, I stood up, leaving my now stone-cold coffee where it was. Not looking back, I started walking up the stairs, walking back to my family, back to where I belonged.

_________________________________________________________________

I hope you liked Chapter 2!!!!! The story is going to be about what Sodapop does to the Soc that hurts Ponyboy, fyi....

i got the idea from this quote:

"_you got a concussion from getting kicked in the head- Soda saw it. He landed all over that Soc, I've never seen gim that mad. I think he could have whipped anyone, in the state he was in." _It was one of those what-if kinda things, and I decided to just go with it. Please, no flames. Advice and ideas are welcome, and i'll credit you for them...I'm trying to think of a name for the Soc that hurts Pony....any ideas?

thanks! kait


	3. Head Over Heels

A Brother's Devotion

I don't own the Outsiders…blahblah blah…although I call dibs on Sodapop! = )

See me cry  
See me smile  
See me fall  
See me fly yea  
And I'm tired  
Of this stupid game  
of running in circles for you again  
Don't blame me  
For what I gotta do  
I won't hate myself to be loved by you

-Johnny Falls, Hedly

Chapter 3-

Head Over Heels~Soda POV~

I had made my mind up as I watched Pony sleep, his even breaths comforting me as I sat by him, my eyes scanning over him, my mind going in circles. I was going to flay the no good sonofabitch who put his hands on my baby brother alive. That much I knew. I grimaced and felt my face slip into a scowl as I remembered seeing Pony lying helpless in the mud, arms crossed over his head as he tried to get up and fight back…

_Rain was everywhere. It was sheeting down heavily, making it hard to see anything farther than a few feet in front of your face. It pelted my face and back coldly, landing in deep puddles on the ground, making footing uneasily and dangerous. Where in God's almighty universe was Ponyboy? Stumbling and slipping in the mud, I accidently backed into a heavyset Soc, a few feet taller than me. _

"_What the fuck?" he roared angrily, punching sloppily at my head. His dark hair was plastered to his meaty freckled face, making him look like a pissed-off bulldog, his lip up and snarling. I ducked neatly, grabbing his shoulder, and punched him cleanly in the nose, feeling my fingers loosen their grasp on his plaid shirt as he rolled backwards from the force of my punch, feeling his nose give with my savage right hook. I smiled widely, feeling my lip split and blood run down my chin, a hot, salty river. My ribs ached a little, and I was sure I had a black eye and a couple of bruises, but nothing more serious than a couple of deep cuts on my arms where I had fallen over a broken glass bottle that had been unearthed by the pouring rain, eroding the mu, but nothing real bad. I hadn't been in a rumble in almost six months, but it was nice to see I could still hold my own pretty well. But could Ponyboy? The boy backed away, cursing heavily, bright red blood spurting from behind his fingertips as he held his nose. I turned, running the other direction, not looking back. Now if I could only find Pony…_

_I smirked as I swiped my wet hair out of my eyes, squinting as I scanned the crowed of cussing, brawling boys. I couldn't see my little brother, and that scared me something awful. What if he was hurt? I turned around, almost losing my footing as I skidded over the ground, darting around groups of greasers. I spotted Darry, beating the living hell out of Paul Holden. I ran over to them, grabbing Darry roughly by the shoulder, feeling the sodden threads of his shirt clench in my fist. Darry whirled around, his fist drawn back and his teeth bared in a fierce grimace that even scared me. _

"_Darry! It's me, Sodapop!" I cried, shielding my face from the blows he might rain down on my if I didn't make myself known, and soon. I knew he probably couldn't see, but it still would embarrass the living hell out of me if I got socked in the mouth by my older brother. He blinked, looking like a rabbit caught in headlights. He dropped his fists, raising his hand to my face and pushing my bangs out of my eyes, scanning my face._

"_Soda?" he questioned. I nodded at him in relief, glad he hadn't punched the daylights out of me. I grinned at him, and then looked with alarm at Paul, who had finally gotten up, his expression murderous, a long jagged cut on his cheek. But he had come from behind Darry, whose back was to him. This could end badly, I realized, if I didn't do anything about it. I sprang past Darry, leaping at Paul. He hadn't been expecting me to do anything, I saw, at the astonished look on his face. It was priceless. I swung back my fist, swinging hard at his left cheekbone. He howled in pain, clapping his hand to his face. That was gonna leave a pretty mark. _

"_Where-is- Ponyboy?" Darry asked, grunting as he took on a tall, lean Soc, ducking and almost getting kneed in the ribs and the Soc tried to get him in a headlock. I looked at him as I tried to choke Paul, leaning heavily on my hands that were encircling his neck. He grunted, trying to prize my tight hands off of his windpipe. Not gonna happen, buddy. He got a hand free and clawed at my face. I felt his nails break through my cheek, raking down to almost the bottom of my jawbone. I yowled in pain, clamping my hands tighter around his neck as I felt blood run down my cheek. _

"_That hurt, you little sonofabitch," I growled at him, then turned to Darry, trying to yell over the sound of the rumbling thunder and the crack of the lighting that split the sky. "I thought you were keeping an eye on him!" I screamed, looking worriedly at Dar. He gazed back at me, his expression mirroring mine, terrified for our little brother. That's when I heard Pony scream, his voice desperate and garbled. I locked eyes with Darry, feeling my heart freeze in my chest. It contracted painfully, and then started beating out an urgent rhythm. In that second, my world narrowed down to one thing as everything else faded away. I had to find Ponyboy. Throwing Paul down, I got up and started sprinting toward the sound of Pony's mangled cry._

"_Pony! Ponyboy!" I screamed, my eyes wheeling frantically in all directions, looking for his faded purple jacket he absolutely refused to get rid of, no matter how me an' Darry begged. A flash of blond hair caught my eye as I shoved aside a pair of brawling hoods, tripping my way to Pony. He was lying curled up on the ground, his arms over his head and he huddled, cringing, in the mud. A Soc about as tall as me was teaming up with another, bigger Soc to beat the living shit out of a fourteen year-old that didn't weigh more than 115 pounds sopping wet. I felt my jaw set as I marched over to them, dragging the bigger one off of him first. _

"_What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded in my coldest voice, planting my feet as I squared my shoulders. He swung around, blood glinting in his red-blonde hair as he looked up, surprise evident in his icy blue eyes. I remember being startled at how much he looked like Paul Holden. He looked at me as if I was simple, then turned back around, readying himself to kick my poor brother some more. I snapped, whipping him around and punching him square in the mouth, putting as much force behind it as I could. Dally joined me, holding him still as I whaled on him, trying to justify what he had been doing to Pony even half. I threw him aside, reaching desperately for my little brother, ignoring Dally's reaching arms. _

"_Pony? Answer me, goddamnit! Ponyboy, are you okay?" I demanded, half-shaking him as he looked out at me through bleary eyes, his head drooping onto his chest as if it hurt too much to look up. I yanked one of my arms impatiently out of Dally's infernal shaking, pulling up Pony's chin so I could look him in the eyes. I almost sobbed with fear when he didn't answer immediately, my hands starting shaking as my heart plummeted, my stomach jumping into throat. I scraped his hair out of his eyes, gently wiping away the blood that was leaking out from a cut under his eye. _

"_Pony?" I asked, softer this time. "Pone, are you alright?" This time me looked at me, his lower lip trembling as he blinked hard, obviously trying hard not to cry. Fighting tears, he looked at me, nodding sharply once. I felt all the fight leaving my body as my breath whooshed out and I tried not to start doing some crying of my own. I nodded as well, letting go of him and palming my burning eyes. As long as Pony was okay, my world was right again. I turned to find the rest of the gang. My eye caught Two-Bit, who was whooping it up, blood streaming down his face as he smiled, yelling in victory. We had won, I thought, detached as I watched the blonde Soc and his friend scramble up, running for a car as the rest of the Socs ran away as well, snarling over their shoulders and the scampered away, their tails between their legs. I walked over to Steve and tapped him on the shoulder. _

"_That Soc," I asked, trying my best to keep my voice disinterested as I jerked my chin at the well-built Soc that had been beating on Pony. "That kid, what's his name?" I stuffed my hands into my pockets, shaking my waterlogged hair from my face. It was no use, though. The rain had let up some, but still fell steadily. It felt like the sky was crying. Steve looked at me, surprised. This wasn't what he had expected out of my mouth, that much was clear. His brown eyes scanned me over once. Two huge purple bruises were blooming under his eyes, I noticed. He must have broken his nose again, I thought at the back of my mind, but quickly pushed away this random thought. I squirmed away, uncomfortable with Steve's ability to read me like an open book. Steve had always been able to see right through my lies, ever since we first met. He didn't say anything, though. He looked back at the kids that were quickly and messily stuffing themselves into their shiny cars, going back home to nurse their wounds. _

"_I- that's Paul Holden's little brother," he said quietly, still looking me over. "His name's Eddie Holden, I think. He's a junior, same as Two-Bit. Why?" he questioned, folding his arms over his chest. I cringed slightly, my wind wheeling as I tried to think of an answer, coming up with nothing. _

"_Ah- he's a pretty good fighter," I said, my face and voice blank as I spun my lie. "I thought sometime I'd maybe teach him a thing or two," I murmured, committing Eddie Holden to memory. I was going to get even with him for hurting Ponyboy. Nobody, nobody hurts my family and gets away with it. Nobody. _

I blinked back the memory, clearing my head as I rocked my face between my palms, trying to rub away the last two days.

The only question now was how I was going to do exactly that, and how I was going to get past Darry on all this. I tenderly brushed Pony's hair off his forehead and kissed the top of his head gently, lingering for a minute. I could still smell him, the mixed scent of books and cigarettes and fresh air and grass and _Pony. _Feeling alone, I dropped my hand and stepped back, still pressing my nose to his hair as I lingered, feeling guilty for leaving him alone.

"Be well," I breathed into his hair, feeling his warm, shallow breath on my fingertips. I brushed past a late-shift nurse on my way out, throwing her an absentminded smile as she bustled around Pony, fussing over all that confusing machinery, talking to him quietly.

I ran into my older brother as I was walking down the brightly lit hallway, away from Ponyboy. I was so intent of making it out of the hospital unnoticed by Darry that I had failed to actually watch where I was going. Stumbling tiredly, I ran face-first into Dar's muscular chest. Bouncing off, I staggered, my eyes bleary and burning from no sleep. Hell, I couldn't even remember the last time I had had a full night of sleep, but it was probably before Pony took off with Johnny for Jay Mountain. I shuddered at the memory, but tried to walk around Darry anyway.

"Whoa there, little buddy," Darry said gently, righting me. His big hands grasped my upper arms firmly but gently. He turned me around, guiding me back towards Ponyboy's room. I tripped along next to him, like a small child being guided by a firm parent. Looking up at Darry, I offered the only comfort I could, I small smile. Darry smiled back, unshaven, his clothes crumpled and his eyes bloodshot. His wounds from the rumble already looked loads better. Besides a few shallow cuts on his face, his left hand was bandaged from where he had hit a Soc's cheekbone too hard and split his knuckles. Glory, I probably looked worse. I resolved that in the morning I could find a shower and a clean pair of clothes before heading out to find that goddamn Soc. _No use looking like a bum while cracking his head to pieces, _I reasoned with myself. Yawning, I brushed my finger across Pony's cheek, watching him as he slumbered. Did he, I wondered, know how much we missed him already? Did he know how much I wanted to see him smile again? Maybe if I hoped enough, next time I looked at him he would look back at me. Maybe.

"You," Darry said, "Need sleep." I protested weakly, but lay down on the pull-out couch in Pony's room without a big fight, sighing happily when my aching body hit the bed. I could have slept in a cardboard box and been content, that's how tired I was. Flipping off the light, I felt the mattress creak at Darry heaved himself next to me, blowing out a huge breath before his breathing became slow and steady. I was asleep before my head hit my arms.

____________________________________________________________________

*pops up from behind her computer* how was that? I loved the reviews, thanks!!! although, *puts on cross face* i got ALOT more hits than views. So, if you'd pretty pllllleeeaaasssee R&R, it would mean the world to me! Also, i decided if i got ten or more reviews i might to a sequal to Epilogue.....*nudge nudge*

I hope you liked it! I'll try to post Chapter 4 (it'll also be Soda's POV) as soon as i can, probably friday or this weekend (no promises, though! sorry!)

love, kait

also, this is a un-beta'd story, so sorry for the mistakes and spelling errors i didn't catch...whoops. Thanks again!


	4. Important Author's Note: Name Credit

I 'm sooooo sorry I forgot last chapter *thunks head on keyboard* but thanks for the wonderful reviews, and credit for Eddie Holden's name goes to Ponyboyluver260, and catdog. Thanks sweeties! It helped a bunch!!

Love, Kait *the next chapter will be up as soon as I finish typing it!!! Teaser..Soda comes up with a plan…duh duh duuuh…*


	5. Don't Mess with My Family

A Brother's Devotion

I don't own anything here but my little side plot. PLEASE don't remove this… everything belongs to S.E Hinton. But I lurvve Sodapop…  
*swoons*

Swearing, and later in this story there's violence, so T to be safe…

You called me strong, you called me weak  
But your secrets I will keep  
You took for granted all the times I  
Never let you down  
You stumbled in and bumped your head, if  
Not for me then you would be dead  
I picked you up and put you back  
On solid ground

If I go crazy then will you still  
Call me Superman  
If I'm alive and well will you be  
There holding my hand  
I'll keep you by my side with my  
Superhuman might  
Kryptonite

-Kryptonite, 3 doors down

Chapter 4- Don't Mess with my Family

~Soda POV~

_I was alone, in the abandoned lot. It was night; the sky crushed black velvet, like the stuff that had lined our parent's sleek dark coffins. The bright moonlight cut a blazing bright path through the huge, ancient trees that lined our little neighborhood on both sides of the streets. It was very quiet, almost too quiet for my liking. It was the kind of silence you hear just before something really bad happens. I shivered in the cool breeze that ruffled my hair, flattening the long, lean grass that grew wild and untamed in the lot, in the dark corners that never quite saw full sunlight. Rubbing my arms to keep warm, I paced around, wondering what the hell I was doing here in a dream. _

_I sat down on the old rusty hood of the decaying car that moldered in the far right corner of the yard, by the darkest part of the fence, the section that never got full sunlight, the part we all avoided if we could. It just felt…wrong. I shuddered again, this time from fear. It was sure real creepy here alone at night. I thought of Johnny, spending so many nights here, alone when he wasn't wanted at home. Johnny was usually too prideful to walk into our home for the night, but Pony had always made sure he was sleeping on our couch when it got cold out, if things were real bad with his folks. Poor Johnny. But at least he had us, his last lifeline to love. Sadness swept through me, chilling me like the wind had. I missed talking to Ponyboy. I wish he was here with me, if only to tell me about his latest track meet or how he finally got Two-Bit in a headlock for the first time. I laughed at the last image, picturing my thin, leonine brother putting stocky, muscular Two-Bit in any sort of choke-hold. I was still chuckling when I heard my name being called so softly I could have missed it if I hadn't been listening so hard. I froze, listening intently. _

"_Soda…Sodapop…" I whirled around, plunging my hand in my back pocket, then flipping out a pocketknife that had suddenly appeared in my hand. I did a doubletake as I checked out the sleek, shiny knife more closely. It was a brown knife, with wood inlaid in the handle, the rich mahogany winking up at me as I tilted it this way and that, the silver metal shining in the moonlight. It was a switchblade, clearly very well taken care of. I flipped it over, running my finger along the back. I stopped when I felt an indention in the metal. Peering closely, I saw two letters: P.C. written in careful penmanship, painstakingly carved with care into the underside of the handle. _

_My heart sank. This blade belonged to Ponyboy. I knew this was his only knife. He kept it in his dresser drawer, in the back behind his old socks. I hadn't seen it in years, not since I had given it to him two years ago for Christmas. So why did I have it? I grasped it nevertheless, holding it away from my body, the sharp tip pointed at where I had heard the noise, my hand shaking slightly as I trembled. It's just a dream, I told myself. It can't hurt you. But I forgot. While my imagination couldn't bruise my body or break my bones, it could scar my mind, leave me broken. _

_A stick cracked in the darkness, the sharp snapping noise making me jump slightly. I strained my eyes, trying to see. I could barely make out a figure, leaning against a thick tree trunk in the night. "W-who's there?" I called, wishing I had night vision or something, so I could see who was about to mug me or shit. "I said who's there?" I called again, rocking slightly on the balls of my feet, getting ready to pitch myself at my attacker. But I checked myself as the faceless person stepped out of the gloom, revealing his face as the silvery light from the moon peeled away the darkness. I relaxed when I saw the familiar brown-red hair turned blond, and then gasped, my horrified cry shredding the deathly silence of the night as I saw his face. _

"_P-pony? Ponyboy?" I stuttered, slowly moving back until my knees hit the disintegrating tire by the car and my legs gave out, turning into water. My little brother no longer looked at me with shining green eyes; his clear, pale skin dotted with faint freckles the color of wet sand. No, he looked undead, his skin the color of a fish's underbelly. His left eye was swollen shut, the right side of his face caked with blood and dirt. His lip was swollen and bloodied, and his hair was sticking in all directions, matted with grass and gunk, only a few glimpses of the platinum blond showing through the muck . He was covered from head to toe in dirt and grass, and I could tell he was soaking wet. I could also tell by the way he walked at least a few of his ribs were broken, and he moved gingerly, like his ankle might be sprained. His shirt was ripped and torn in some places, and there were blotchy, dark stains spread across his torso. It was dark red and looked thick, and I was one-hundred percent sure it wasn't strawberry jelly. Dear god, what had happened to him? I felt tears well up in my eyes, and I reached a shaking hand out to him, searching my mind for why the world would be so cruel to show this to me. _

"_What happened to you?" I whispered at last, sobs ripping out of me with an alarming noise as the tears spilled over. I stood up, backing away slightly as he started toward me, what I could clearly see of his face twisted into a snarl, his eye glinting with hatred as he stalked at me, looking like a lion pacing after his prey. I shook my head slowly in denial, trying to look away but not quite bringing myself to. This, this monster wasn't my brother. My brother loved me, would never look at me the way this boy was, with such sickening anger in his eyes…_

"_P-pony?" I stammered, finding my voice. He looked directly at me when he heard the sound of his name, bitterness filling his eyes. He swung his arm up. I flinched slightly at the sudden movement, and then looked at his left arm, gagging as I finally turned away. Something was wrong with his arm; I knew that elbows weren't supposed to bend that way, that it should be impossible for him to twist it at that angle…_

_Bile filled my mouth and I leaned over, retching. Ponyboy watched me, unmoving. His eyes were black holes, angry and swirling. "Are you done?" he asked, his voice bland and uncaring. I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand, still bent in half as I looked at what my brother was, what my sweet sibling, my Pony had become._

"_Pony, oh, Ponyboy...what the hell happened to you?" I asked again, straightening up again, my eyes fixed on Pony. He looked at me, a smirk twisting up his lip, his teeth bloody, a few dark holes in his mouth where his perfect white teeth had once been._

"_You, you left me," he stated finally, his eyes that of a hurt, wounded, betrayed animal. I gasped, then shook my head adamantly, feeling my trembling hands start full-out shaking. _"_No," I said, my voice breaking the tension that had been growing between us like a virus. "No, no, no. I would never, ever leave you." I stated, trying to make Pony see that. It was true. Leaving Ponyboy in any sort of danger would be like letting my heart walk through a meat grinder. It was impossible. It simply couldn't happen. _"_Why are we here?" I asked Pony, trying to direct his attention elsewhere. He looked at me, and then smirked, letting out a low, harsh laugh. The sound grated on my nerves. I resisted the urge to clap my hands over my ears and start singing. _

"_Soda, we're here because I'm dead," he stated, for the first time losing the angry sound in his voice, and looking at me with real concern lacing his voice. My mind rebelled, rejecting this statement totally and completely, refusing to even think of this possibility. "No." I said, my voice flat and cold, leaving no room for arguments. "No, that's not possible. You-you can't be dead. I won't let you die. I won't! Ponyboy, I love you! Nobody is going to take my little brother away from me. Nobody!" I was now shouting, my voice echoing down the streets, then dying off, fading, my voice unsteady and wavering as tears coursed down my wind-numbed cheeks. But I couldn't wipe them away. My hands didn't work. They were just two lumps at my side. I could feel my heart dying as Pony looked at me, pity in his eyes. But I didn't want his pity. I just wanted my happy, wonderful, beautiful little brother back. _

_Then he cast his gaze downward, taking an unsteady breath. When he looked back up, his eyes were shining with a film of tears, looking venerable and young, my Ponyboy at last. "Those are just words. They don't mean anything. They're just letters, put together to sound pretty. Sodapop," He said softly, "You're the reason I'm dead. I've been dead since the night of the rumble. You didn't save me. You guys left me there-" and here his voice cracked- "alone. So I died, freezing, hurting, and unloved. You guys put me down there, into the cold earth. I'm all alone… not even mom and dad are there. I ended up just like I never thought I would. But Dally was right. He was right. It sucks to care. It's not worth it." He took a shuddering breath, wiping his good eye with his palm. Then he gave me a soft half-smile smile and walked back into the shadows, fading away, then gone, like the breeze that rustled through the trees. I fell to my knees and let the sobs take me, not noticing as the skies opened up, rain pouring down and soaking me. But I no longer cared. Life, meaning, gone. I was dead inside. _

I woke with a sudden start, my head flying up from my arms. Disoriented, I looked around confusedly. Where in god's name was I? It was too clean to be hell, and I hadn't been that bad… It all came crashing back as I saw the prone figure lying on the bed. _Pony._I shuddered as my dream came back to me, and I touched my bare chest with a shaking hand, dragging my fingers down my ribs. I was drenched in a sheen of cold sweat, and I was trembling like a leaf. I ran my fingers through my hair, which was now plastered to my head. I reached out and touched Ponyboy's arm, just to make sure he was there. I heard his steady breathing, watched his chest rise and fall slightly. Calming down, I sat back, breathing deeply. I knew I wouldn't forget my dream. I touched my cheek. My fingertips came away wet, so I swiped at my tears, taking a shuddering breath. I swore to myself that I would never, ever let anything bad happen to Ponyboy. I would die first. Life didn't have any meaning in it for me without my family.

All of a sudden I was pissed. Those stupid, dumb, good-for-nothing Socs, that rich-kid Eddie was the reason I was watching my family die slowly, falling apart, no matter how I tried to piece us back together. Damnit, I was going to fix this. My vision hazed as I struggled to keep my breathing even, to not wake Darry, who was still sleeping tiredly on the other side of the couch, his hair straggly and his mouth open, a string of drool hanging out the side. Ah, Dar. He had to grow up too fast, just like the rest of us. I watched him tiredly as I pulled myself up, sitting on the side of the couch, throwing my legs over the side and getting up at last. Peeking out the window, I frowned. It was still dark, the horizon smudged with gray. A few birds chirped weakly, but inside there was no noise but the humming of machines and whir of the air conditioning units. I ruffled my older brother's hair, and then walked into the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face.

I shuddered from the shock, shivering slightly as I looked up in the mirror through bleary eyes. Boy howdy, did I look a mess. My hair was everywhere, and I had blasted stubble covering my chin, cheeks and cheekbones. Deep circles were carved in ghastly purples under my bloodshot eyes. My black eye was mellowing into a nasty shade of yellow-green, but was still purple right around my eye. The cuts on my face were healing as well, but made me look as if I didn't know how to handle a razor properly, and had cut myself foolishly. If I faced off Eddie Holden and his little pack of pups looking like this, I wouldn't need a tire-iron. They'd split a gut laughing before I could do any damage to 'em.

Sighing, I stripped quickly, wincing at the bloodstain on the front of my shirt. Oh well. I would never wear it again anyway. It held too many memories, too many bad things for it to be of any value to me. Tossing it into the garbage, I climbed into the shower, sighing happily when the hot water hit my back. I quickly washed my hair, letting the water run down my face, washing away the blood and tears and some of the memories of the last two days. Sighing, I groped for a towel, wrapping it around my face and I used my arm to wipe away the steam that fogged up the closet-sized bathroom as I stumbled out of the shower. Grabbing a razor someone left on the counter, I grab a bar of generic soap, lathering up my face, and start to shave. I was so intent on getting every little hair that I didn't hear the blasted door creak open until I heard a voice boom behind me,

"Heya, little budd- _whoops_. Sorry, Pepsi-Cola. You alright?" I had jumped, making the damn blade slip, dragging it roughly across my chin, down to right above my Adam's apple. A deep well of blood appeared, stinging like a line of tiny fire. I pressed my arm against the swell of blood, feeling it run a hot path down my throat.

I had had it. I was tired, running on around five hours of sleep, cranky, and now bleeding, not to mention I dragged my knocked-out brother away from his dead friend less than a day ago. This just wasn't my week. I threw down the blade, scraping the leftover soap off my face, and grabbing a tissue to stem the blood flow from the cut.

"Aw, damn it Darry," I seethed, brushing past him to grab my socks and jeans, "Look what you made me do!" Shoving on my pants, I sat down on the rumpled couch, pushing my feet into my shoes, forcing them when they rebelled. I waved the blood-stained paper at him, glaring deeply as I wadded it up and threw it to the floor angrily. His sorry look melted, replacing itself with a glare of his own. _Uh-oh._I stalked to Pony's bed, looking at my brother's pinched, thin face, instead of Darry's angry, reddened one. Darry threw his hands up in the air; expanding his mass and making him fill the room.

"What do you want me to do, Soda?" he boomed, making me cringe slightly against Pony's bed. My hand found Pony's limp one, and wormed itself into his warm, unresponsive one, curling my fingers into his palm. I squeezed once, begging him to give me strength. I stood up, Darry's head towering over mine as I looked him directly in the face, trying not to cower. I poked hard him in the chest, watching him with satisfaction as he flinched slightly. I opened my mouth, about to rip into him when I heard my name, and Dar's, so soft I could have imagined it.

"Darry…Soda." I turned around, an apology on my lips for whatever poor nurse had seen the beginnings of our little rumble. But the doorway was empty. Puzzled, I walked over, peeking out. The hallway was silent, no one in sight. Lights flickered, the hum of electricity the only noise in the hallway. I was beginning to get angry again. Did someone think they were being smart, playing a joke on us? Then I heard it again.

"Dar…Sodapop." Confused, I leaned against Pone's bed, my eyes scanning the room. Then I had an idea. Maybe it was a hope, a desperate wish. I whirled on Darry. "D'you think…that it's Ponyboy, talking?" The lines on Darry's forehead could have written a 2,000 page newspaper. I bent my head over Pony's and listened, watching his lips. They parted slightly, letting me see a glimpse of his tongue and his teeth. He murmured, _"Darry…Sodapop."_ I was so surprised I actually did a double take. Jesus Christ, he was delirious. He was sleep talking.

"Dar, I think we got a problem." I said quietly, nudging his arm, forgetting about our fight. "He's…gone 'round the bend," I stuttered, unable to tear my eyes away from the train wreck that was my messed-up little brother. Darry muttered something, running out the door to find a doctor. I sank onto the bed, stroking his forehead, which seemed to be getting hotter by the minute.

"Stay with us, Pony. You gotta pull through….you just…you gotta." I said, trying not to yell in desperation, my voice wavering and cracking. I hated, _hated_ being helpless. Stroking his head, I pressed my lips to his head, walking out the door, fists set.

I walked up to the Doctor's Station, slamming my fists down on the counter. The old lady behind the counter looked up, blinking in surprise. Cocking an eyebrow in a movement that reminded me of Two-Bit, she cleared her throat, speaking dryly through cherry-red lips, her mud-colored eyes looking at me through cat eye glasses that had little fake gems glued to the corners lopsidedly. I wrinkled my nose at her. Her hair was bright orange and obviously dyed. I decided right then and there her new name was Hag-Lady.

"What can I help you with?" she asked politely, her eyes flicking up and down me in a blatant once-over, pursing her lips as she came to her conclusion. In her eyes, I was a dirty greaser, a JD, a hood. Therefore, I didn't need to be treated like I mattered. She thought, so it was, in her world. "I need to speak to Ponyboy Curtis's doctor, please," I growled, folding my arms and flicking out a cigarette, clenching it gently between my teeth as I reached for my lighter. Lighting up, I blew smoke out, staring coolly at her. I knew I looked tough. I was thanking my lucky stars I hadn't bleached my hair, like Pony. Then this whole façade would be shot to pieces.

"Well, I never- really!" she stammered, clearly intimidated by me. I smirked back, blowing smoke rings lazily. Wheeling her chair around, she turned and stomped into the back. I peered around the desk. Ah, there she was. Standing on a chair, she was grabbing a thick manila folder. I could barely make out Pony's name, scribbled in cramped pen on the tab. I clenched my fists, suddenly very nervous. What if he had hurt his brain? Oh god, what it he ends up like Johnny? I stabbed out my cigarette, suddenly afraid I might throw up. Shifting my weight, I whirled when I felt a hand clamp on my shoulder.

"Hey, little buddy, are you okay? You looked mighty sick there," Darry's voice boomed. I relaxed, leaning back into him, covering his hand with my own."I'm okay," I whispered, watching the lady head back to us, her lips pressed in a thin line of obvious displeasure. Hag-lady dropped the folder, settling back in her chair as she opened it, flicking through various papers, all different colors, her long ruby red nails scratching on the sheets, making the hair on the back of my neck rise.

"Well?" I demanded, putting my palms flats on the desk, staring at her and waiting. The bitch smirked back at me, glad that she was in charge, for now. She resumed flipping slowly through the papers, looking. Loudly blowing out nosily through her lips, she pulled out a white sheet, running her finger down a column full of big words, still saying nothing, toying with me. I tried to calm my breathing and rising blood pressure as I looked at her with a blank face, trying to shove down on the anger and fright I felt rising up in the pit of my stomach. Darry placed another hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me down. Darry leveled eyes with her, his lips white as he pressed them together, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. If I didn't know him as well as I did I'd say he was calm. But I could see the fear in his eyes, waiting to break through the glass-thin mask he hid behind.

"Do you have any information for us?" he asked, his voice calm and slow. I stared at him incredulously, my eyes full of shock. How could he talk that nicely to this horrid bitch when our little brother might be dying? But I lost my train of thought as she began talking.

"Well, it seems, -ah..._Ponyboy _has sustained some serious maladies. He is suffering from a concussed right frontal lobe, minor shock, and exhaustion. Added, he also had numerous cuts and bruises, with a fissure or two on his lower right sternum" she concluded, shuffling the papers busily, trying to fit them all back into the folder. I stared at her, watching her back as she walked away to replace the folder from whatever medical hellhole it had come from. Medical jargon made my head hurt, and reminded me why I quit school. Placing my temples between my palms and rubbing, I asked tiredly, "In English, please?" Darry looked at me, the beginnings of a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. Grabbing me by my elbow, he led me away from the counter to a row of gray chairs, lined up like plastic soldiers. Looking me in the eyes, he began talking in a low voice.

"Soda, it basically means that Pone hit his head really hard, and will be dizzy and probably not too happy when he wakes up. His ribs are probably bruised, and cuts are…well, cuts, and he hadn't gotten enough sleep and shit, so that didn't make him feel well," he concluded, still looking at me intently. I felt this sink in, hitting my system, and I waited for the fear to hit. But all I felt was anger. Anger at the gang, who should have looked after him better, anger at Two-Bit, who should have kept Ponyboy out of the rumble, anger at Eddie Holden, who had the nerve to throw a kid to the ground and tag-team beat him up. I was gonna bust that no-good-sonofabitch's back.

Standing up, I shrugged out of Dar's arm and began walking for the entrance, ignoring his voice behind me. I would call out them tonight. I would protect my little brother. I owed that to him, at least. They would never hurt Ponyboy again. _Eddie Holden, I hope you're ready, because here I come, _I thought as I walked into the cool morning air.

________________________________________________________________________

**Hi guys! *waves* I hope you liked it! The next chapter should be veeerrry good...*waggles eyebrows* But i can only write it for y'all if you tell me what you want! there should be a link in my profile with a poll, telling me how we should bust up Eddie Holden's pretty face ~insert evil laugh here~. If you guys have a different, better idea than my pitiful tries, PLEASE review and tell me, or PM me. I take anon reviews, just an FYI. PLEASE pretty please with a smiling, awake Ponyboy on top!!! Oh yeah....this story isn't beta'd or anything cause i can't find anyone (so if you want to help me PLEASE PM me,) so sorry and 'cuse the spelling/grammer errors...A girl can only be so perfect..*fluffs hair* lol thx guys you're the best!!! *happy dance* R&R chicos!!! *kisses***

**love kait**


	6. Healing

**Kait: *punches air* I own the Outsiders!!! *happy dances***

**Dally: *flying tackles Kait and sits on her* No, you don't! We belong to S.E Hinton!**

**Kait: *pouts* Fine, fine. I don't own the Outsiders. I just own my little wandering into her kickbutt world. Get offa me so I can tell the story, will ya? *shoves at Dally's awesome muscles***

**Dally: *grins evilly* Actually, I'm quite comfortable where I am…**

**Kait: HELP!**

**Songs for this Chapter: Kryptonite- 3 Doors Down and The Reason- Hoobastank**

This is T-rated, for swearing and some iffy flashbacks….

I'm not a perfect person  
There's many things I wish I didn't do  
But I continue learning  
I never meant to do those things to you  
And so I have to say before I go  
That I just want you to know

I've found out a reason for me  
To change who I used to be  
A reason to start over new  
and the reason is you

I'm sorry that I hurt you  
It's something I must live with everyday  
And all the pain I put you through  
I wish that I could take it all away  
And be the one who catches all your tears  
That's why I need you to hear

I've found a reason to show  
A side of me you didn't know  
A reason for all that I do  
And the reason is you

-The reason, Hoobastank

Chapter 5- Healing

~Darry POV~

I looked helplessly as Soda strolled out of the hospital, walking quickly into the cool morning air, his head down and his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he walked quickly away, his shoulders set. "Ah, damn it," I seethed, seizing my hair in my hands, as I stood uncertainly in the middle of the hall, nurses and doctors nervously skirting around me, rolling beds with pale, listless patients on them to the side, avoiding meeting my eyes. I had farther bigger problems than them. Two sides of me were arguing, not able to come to a happy median. I bunched my fists up and groaned in frustration, leaning against the wall and thunking my head against the pale yellow wall as hard as I could without punching my skull through the drywall.

One, a louder, more sure voice was yelling, _you idiot. Go get your idiot brother, Sodapop before he does something half-assed that gets him thrown in jail!_

But another, softer voice that was getting louder and stronger by the moment was screaming,_ stay. You owe it to Ponyboy. __**You're**__ the reason he's lying in that bed. __**You're**__ the reason he's comatose, beaten up and hurt. If __**you **__had watched out for him, he would be fine. _I growled angrily, rubbing my face in my palms. Then, pushing off the wall, I turned against my better judgment and wandered back to Pony's room.

It was dark when I walked inside, the figure on the hospital bed still limp. A doctor sat by his bed, a clipboard in his hands, busily checking over notes by a puddle of warm light that was coming from the lamp on the bedside table. He looked up, his green eyes widening in surprise as he saw me hesitating in the doorway.

"Er, hi," I began awkwardly, stuffing my hands in my pockets and shifting from foot to foot. What I really wanted to shout was_ get the hell away from my little brother,_ but I didn't think that would go over too well so I remained silent, waiting for him to speak. He stood up, reaching out to shake my hand, placing the clipboard on Pony's still feet and walking forward, a real smile spreading across his face.

I looked uncertainly behind me, not quite able to believe that this Soc was smiling so warmly and welcomingly at me. I cautiously stuck my hands in his, shaking firmly. HE had calluses on the pads of his hands, telling me that he was used to working for his living. His smile grew wider as he peered into my eyes. "Well," He said, his eyes twinkling. "I came in to tell you that if all Ponyboy's tests come back negative, he can go home with you tomorrow." I looked at him, not believing my ears. We could leave this horrid place? Really? But my inner happy moment was interrupted by him talking. "Wow, it really is you," he said, still gazing at me. I squirmed away, withdrawing my hand and rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. I could feel the tops of my ears heating up and reddening, a sure sign I was embarrassed. Who was this dude?

"Ah, I don't mean to be rude, but who the hell are you?" I asked, cocking my head and looking at him askance. His head drooped and his smile dimmed a bit, and he looked at me hard, really looked at me. "You-you don't remember me? You really don't know who I am?" I looked back at him, scanning him fully. He was almost as tall as I was, with thick, shiny black hair, lightly tanned skin, and eyes that looked like glittering jade. The only thing keeping him from being almost pretty was a long scar that carved down the right side of his face, roping past his cheekbone and about halfway down his neck, where it suddenly stopped. A memory flew across my mind for a moment.

_Boywithdarkhairlaughingeyessmilingyellingbuthishisfacechangednowpaleandscaredbloodeveryohgodsomeonehelppleasedarkcoldbloodonmyhandsguninmyfacedead…_ I rolled my shoulders and shuddered internally; trying to making the repressed memories go away.

"Ah, no. Should I?" I asked, confused, searching my memory for this strange doctor that was convinced he knew me. He did look familiar in the dream way, a thought that lingers but never really forms… but then I knew.

_His name was Keegan._

My mouth moved without me thinking and I blurted, "Keegan? Keegan Ryder?" I internally smacked myself as his eyes lit up, and he seized me by the shoulders and shook me slightly. "You do remember! Darry, I'll never, ever be able to thank you," he said, looking at me with gratitude in his eyes. I was caught off guard by the staggering compassion and thankfulness in his voice, infused with caring. Then it all came back in a blinding rush that almost made me bend in half.

_It was December, and cold. I remember how my breath puffed out in chilly clouds, how my hands went numb as I walked to Buck's, the bar about a block or two away from home, owned by Buck Merril, a greaser that usually gave us reduced prices when we came in, or if we tried hard enough and really cared we could wrangle free drinks sometimes, which I hardly ever did. I was walking fast, envisioning the whiskey that would be in my hand in a few moments. I had just had the biggest fight that had ever gone down with Ponyboy tonight, as I was still shaking from some of the things he had said to me, and I to him. _

"_I hate you! Who do you think you are, bossing me around?" Ponyboy screamed, his fists bunched up, his eyes glinting with anger. _

_I threw my hands up, exasperated. "Well, it looks like I'm your legal guardian, since  
Mom and Dad died. What the hell do you want me to do, Pony? Reincarnate Mom and Dad? You and Soda are all I have now, and I'll be damned if I let you skip out on school. You've got talent Pony, and I will not let it go to waste! You will finish school, you will go to college! Soda and I are working as hard as we can to make sure you have the choice we didn't! Why can't you see that?" I yelled, jabbing a finger in his direction. His green eyes grew wide, and then narrowed into slits as he glared at me. _

"_To hell with you, Darry! You think I like fighting, you think I enjoy having teachers look at me like I'm simple when I say no, my parent can't come to conferences? I hate it! Don't try to replace them, you can't!" he shouted, and then whirled to the door as we heard it open, then close. Soda strolled in, his cheeks pink from the cold and his nose running. His smile was wide, and jaunty. He had just been out with Sandy, Steve and Evie, coming back from a high school football game they decided to go see. Tossing his jacket on the sofa, he looked up at us, eyes sparkling. _

"_Hey guys, what's up-"he started, then halted when he saw we were across the family room from each other, faces flushed and breathing angrily. He knew the signs by now of when he had come to verbal blows with each other; he had walked in on them many times before. His smile dimmed, and then faded, quickly replaced with a look of deep disgust. _

"_Guys, , you damn well better have your heads screwed on straight before the State comes knockin' to put me an' Pony in a boy's home!" he said angrily, his voice low and angry, his arms crossed and his eyes stormy. Then, as quickly as he had come, he ran down the hall to Pony's and his bedroom, slamming the door. Pony looked at me once, and then darted after Soda, racing down the hall and slipping into the bedroom. I could hear Soda's angry voice, then Pony's soothing one, low and muted behind the closed door. Running a hand through my hair, I had grabbed my coat off the rack by the door and left, letting the screen door bang shut behind me. I knew I wouldn't be missed. _

_So here I was, walking down a busy street at eleven o'clock on a Thursday night, steaming mad. If Pony would only listen, I thought. Then we'd get along just fine. Damn boy doesn't use his head, doesn't know when to stop. He just likes to push my buttons. But I would never get rid of him and Soda. They were all I had left, and I would fight for them to the end, no doubt. But Pony didn't see that, I knew. I opened the door to Buck's, letting the noise and warmth wash over me. I stepped inside, the odd red lighting letting my eyes adjust from the darkness of outside. I took off my jacket, draping it over my arm. Walking up to the bar, I saw Buck himself. _

_Buck was tall, about my age, and as scary as an angry grizzly bear. His hair was cornsilk yellow, and his cool blue eyes pierced right through you, making you feel like he could see through to your soul, read your every thought. Buck Merril was quite the character. He was missing his front teeth, and was easy to push around if you knew how to, but you didn't mess with Buck if you didn't want to end up hurt, bad. He was as tough as nails, made of the same kind of stuff as Dallas. I nodded at him, mouthing WHISKEY. He nodded back coolly, and walked over and whispered into the bartender's ear, jerking his head at me. The bartender, a huge man with quite a few ear piercings and tats, met my gaze and scanned me over once._

_I knew what he would see. His gaze would land upon a big man, pretty large muscles, dark hair, icy blue-green eyes, and a gaze that seemed to hold you to the wall. I also knew what he wouldn't see, no matter how hard he tried. He wouldn't see my love for my brothers, the scars on my knuckles from accidently hitting myself with a hammer in my job, from fighting to preserve my family against assholes that would tear us apart. No, he wouldn't see the real me, just unimportant bits and pieces. _

_He looked back at Buck and said something quietly. The hair on my neck rose a little. I hated being talked about behind my face. Well, in this case, in front of my face. I pretended not to watch them, looking around the bar instead. It was busy, as usual. People were in the corner playing pool, their faces furrowed in concentration. Girls sat on the swivel stools in the far corner by the jukebox, talking loudly, their laughs drifting over the sound of Buck's favorite music, Hank Williams. I hated the stuff. A few guys were playing poker or some card game by a wall hung with pictures and records, the strange light flashing off them and making their occupants look like they were swimming in blood. I had to admit, it gave me the creeps. This was fully a greaser bar. You could tell by the many leather jackets and the way the odd pulsating light slid over the shiny, slicked back hair, the hardened–looking faces, and the wary way the occupants held themselves, like they were expecting to get jumped at any moment. I just shook my head. _

_I looked over as the hulking bartender came to stand in front of me. He shoved a dark brandy-colored liquid in front of me, the ice cubes clanking against the low sides of the glass. I nodded my thanks, shoving a five-dollar bill at him. He let a brief smile slide across his face, then left, tucking the money into his apron. I shivered slightly. That man gave me the willies. _

_Sipping my drink slowly and grimacing as the familiar burn slid down my throat, I scanned the room again. One man caught my eye. Maybe because he stuck out like a Corvair in a junkyard, maybe it was the way he laughed, how comfortable he was here. I dunno. But he was different, I could tell at a glance. He was also a Soc, which blew my mind. Either he was completely brain-dead or very, very brave to come here. He was laughing with another man, his head thrown back, and his shoulders shaking with mirth, drawing entirely too much attention to himself. He couldn't have been much older than me. I could see a few greasers glaring at him, but nobody made a move to shove him out of the bar as far as I could see. I rolled my eyes. He was lucky he had lasted this far here without being knifed or jumped. What the hell was a Soc doing here? He was wearing a red madras shirt, with khaki slacks and shiny black shoes, like the ones I had to wear to our parent's funeral. I shuddered at the memory, downing the rest of my drink in one go. _

_I felt the alcohol race through my system, warming me and setting my head buzzing pleasantly. I slid the empty glass across the counter, shaking my head no when the bartender asked if I wanted a refill. I just wanted to get buzzed, not reeling pickled. The State would take Pony and Soda away so fast my head would spin if I got drunk. I could hold my liquor well, but I didn't want to take any chances. I pushed away from the bar, my thoughts now calm. I could go home and face Pony without yelling, I was sure now. _

_Slipping on my leather jacket, I ran my hands through my hair and started to the door, and pulled open the door. Some of the guys watched me go with blank faces, and then turned back to their drinks. I was only a few feet away from the steps e when I heard angry voices behind me, growing louder by the minute. I turned around, expecting to see two or three greasers arguing over a poker game or a girl or something air-headed and unimportant. Instead, I saw a mob of greasers surrounding the Soc I saw earlier. His friend was nowhere in sight. Probably bailed on him, I thought with a sigh. But the man didn't look scared. Instead, his face was a cool, blank mask as he faced five angry greasers, his posture relaxed but his fists knotted at his sides._

_The group of people was slightly in the shadow, shaded enough by the night that a police man wouldn't see them, unless he looked twice. Most policemen wouldn't have anything to do with what they called "greaser country" unless they had a gun and about five other men with them. They were all wimps, I thought with a sudden surge of anger. _

_I looked over at the bar, hoping Buck or the bartender would interfere, but no such luck. I saw Buck watching through the front window while he was wiping down the counter, a blank look on his face. He didn't care what went down outsider the bar, so long as no one died. The bartender wasn't there. He was probably upstairs with some trashy greaser girl in one of the bedrooms. I shifted, setting my coat on a doorstep. Coats and jackets interfere with your swinging ability, and I had a feeling I'd need it if I got mixed up in this. I ran my hand through my hair again, a bad habit of mine and something I did when I was mad or frustrated. I stopped, my foot halfway off the curb, ignoring the angry yells as cars swerved around me, laying on their horns loudly. _

_I had been in more than enough rumbles and fights to know that five against one odds isn't exactly the best, unless you're Dallas. I had seen Dallas take on six Socs without blinking an eye. And he had walked away with only bruised knuckles and a black eye. I groaned, turning away from the curb and walking to the fight. I had some sort of compulsion in any sort of situation to help the underdog, and this looked like it was going to top the list of crazy, stupid things I had done to help people. _

_Mumbling under my breath, I walked over, folding my arms as I looked cockeyed at the group of greasers. I knew a couple of them. Jake, Knots, and Mark were in Tim Shepard's gang, and the other two were Brumley boys. They were a little younger than me, and I probably had ten pounds of muscle on the biggest one of them. I suppressed an internal moan as I saw the expressions on their faces turn from anger to confusion. I might walk away from this, but I probably would be limping. I stepped out from under the streetlight, leaving the warm, reassuring pool of light and stepping into the darkness. _

"_The hell, man?" Jake said, brushing his dark hair out of his brown eyes, shifting his gaze back to the Soc, obviously longing to start beating the pulp out of the guy. I stepped slightly in front of the guy, blocking him so that if they started throwing punches most of them would land on me. I wasn't doing it for the guy, really; I was doing it for the greasers. We didn't need any bad press; if the Soc died after they were done with him it would kill us, turn the blue bloods of society against us even more. I folded my arms, not budging as the guy tried to shove me aside._

"_What exactly do you think you're doing?" he asked through gritted teeth, giving up after he discovered he was unable to push me aside. Not moving my eyes away from the line of muscle in front of me, I muttered back, "Well, I'm saving your ass. Now shut up." Looking away, I saw the boys whispering out of the side of their mouths, scanning over me. I stiffened, drawing myself as tall as I could. They were sizing me up, looking for flaws and weaknesses. I knew they'd find none, I thought with pride. I wasn't the biggest guy, but I was pretty strong and could hold my own. The tension in the air was thick and heavy. People had started crowding around the glass window, their eyes huge as they realized what was going down outside. A few guys in the corner were smirking as they looked at us, talking intently. A sick feeling curdled in my stomach as I realized they were taking bets. I stifled another groan. Great, just great. More attention, that's exactly what we needed. As I had looked away for just a second, the guys saw their opening and seized it. A fist caught my jaw and I fell back in surprise, stumbling. Then I lunged for the nearest person, swinging my fists as fast as I could. The man lunged at Jake and Mark, catching Mark around the neck and tumbling to the ground with them. _

"_Grab his legs! Grab his legs!" I shouted, trying to punch Knots in the face while keeping the two Brumley boys off my back. It wasn't easy, I remember. I gagged at one of the Brumley guys wrapped his hands around my neck and yanked, pulling back with all his strength. I choked, losing interest in beating on Knots and more on saving my own life. A blurred figure flew up from my left, and my eyes followed it, whipping around. The man showed up, his cheek bleeding but looking exhilarated. Somehow he had knocked out Mark and Jake. They lay in a limp heap by the stairs, pale and still. I did a double take but kept trying to free my neck. This guy didn't look big enough to knock out Ponyboy, much less two almost full-grown men. His face hardened, and his fist flashed, and I felt more than heard the Brumley boy's head snap back with the force. Lee, I think his name was. I fell to the hard cement, gasping and massaging my throat. Black spot swam in front of my eyelids and my vision dimmed. After I had heaved in as much air as my lungs could hold, I bounced back up, slightly unsteadily. _

_He was circling with Knots and the boys, his eyes alight, breathing heavily, obviously running off pure adrenaline. I scanned him over once for any big bloodstains or gashes but found none. I was impressed and even felt grudging respect for this stranger who had the nerve to walk into an outsiders bar and hang out. He had guts, that was for sure. I was so intent on watching the boys to make sure that they didn't play dirty that I didn't even see the man sneaking up on the Soc. When I did, my eyes went straight to his left hand, in which he held a switchblade, glinting in the moonlight. I couldn't see his face. Just that knife, the light flickering off it like a torch. _

_I gasped, unable to find words to express my fear for the man I didn't even know. _

_It was my fault. If I hadn't gasped, he would have been fine, I could have pushed him away or something, I dunno. I beat myself up every day over what happened. I wish I could go back and change the past, but I can't. When I gasped, I wished I could take it back from the air, shove it back into my mouth. I froze, biting my tongue so hard it bled. He whirled around…_

_The shadow guy smiled, his lips pulling up over his teeth in part snarl, part grimace. The knife flashed down._

_I saw, the knife flying toward his cheek, but I heard his scream of pain as he fell, his eyes wide in disbelief as his hands fell to his side, confusion clouding his eyes as his head flopped back limply. _

_The greaser, whoever the hell he was, slunk back to the shadows, glad, in his eyes, that he had evened the score. _

_I flashed to his side as he fell, blood gushing in rivers down his face. My breath caught in my chest as I glared up at the stunned greasers I counted along my friends, my allies. I sent them my coldest glare, and in my harshest voice I said, "I'd get out of here before I send you straight to hell." Then, turning back to the boy, I pressed my hands to the slash mark on his face, hoping, praying he wouldn't die. When I looked up, the Brumley Boy's and Tim Shepard's gang was gone._

_Blood flowed, wet and warm, over my trembling hands. I shook him gently, checking his bloodied neck for a pulse as I tried to keep my own breathing even. God, there was so much blood. I could feel a faint pulse in the slick skin in his neck, and I breathed in relief. _

"_Hey. Hey kid, can you hear me? Please, answer. Don't die!" I shook him slightly, and he whimpered. Like a kicked dog. Okay, that was good, I tried to tell myself. Pain meant being alive. It was good to be alive. His breathing was becoming shallower, and his tanned face had drained of color, besides for the crimson liquid flowing freely, unhindered. I darted over, scooping up my jacket, and then pressed it to his face, checking to make sure he could still breathe. _

_I picked him up, feeling my bruised body protest as I staggered under his deadweight. Blast, he was heavy. I looked to the bar, seeing about one hundred people staring at me, open-mouthed. This was clearly a first in their books, a greaser saving a Soc. Keeping my hands pressed to my jacket, I yelled hoarsely to the bar, "Call an ambulance! Now!" A girl, tears flowing down her face, nodded, and ran to the nearest payphone, shoving a quarter into it. She spoke into the phone rapidly, her hands white-knuckled around the receiver. I heard her soft voice flowing, hiccupped with tears. I felt like crying, too. How did this happen? Only a couple of hours ago I had been eating blue eggs and some sort of purple bread (it was Soda's night to cook,) with my brothers, and we had been teasing Sodapop about his hot date that night with Sandy, breaking out in laughter when his ears flushed red and he blushed. Now I was holding an unconscious, dying man. I had a feeling of my heart in my ears and sat down on the pavement, the man still cradled in my arms. _

_I stared into the darkness of the alley, glad for something solid and unchangeable that I could cling to. Until the ambulance came, it was my lifeline to sanity. Remembering, I reached into his back pocket, feeling around for a wallet or driver's license. Feeling a slab of leather, I flipped it out, looking at a smiling picture of the bleeding man in my arms. Keegan Ryder, it read. He was nineteen, so a year younger than I was. I shuddered, then slid his wallet back into his pocket, tucking it away safely. That could have been me. My head snapped up as I heard the wail of sirens screech around the corner. Not moving, I watched them as medics spilled out of the car like water over dirt. I shifted Keegan, watching as my coat darkening as it became slick with his lifeblood. _

"_Take him, save him," I ordered, thrusting him at the closest stunned-looking medic. "I-ah.." The confused doctor said as I turned away, shoving my hands into my pockets to hide the shaking. I was no longer the guy who fought for Socs and underdogs, the Darry who held a Soc until help arrived. Now I was the greaser who had two younger brothers to help, and a bone to pick with two different gangs. No, this wasn't the time for a tearful words exchange. I started walking away, towards home. _

"_Sir!" A man called, watching as they loaded Keegan onto a stretcher carefully, shouting orders to each other. "Sir, what do you want us to say when he wakes up?" Without breaking stride, I shouted over my shoulder, "Tell him he shouldn't go places he doesn't belong." Then, not looking back, I went home. But I never forgot the face of the young, foolishly brave Soc from a year ago._

Blinking hard as I came out of my flashback, I staggered a bit as Keegan threw his arms around me, then let go, looking slightly embarrassed as pink flushed his cheeks.

"Sorry about that. It's just that- you left, and I never got to say a proper thank-you." I waved this away, my eyes now fixed on his scar. I motioned with my hand to his scar. His eyes followed my hand. "May I..?" I let the unspoken question hang between us in the air for a minute. _May I touch your scar?_ He nodded with some unspoken emotion in his dark eyes. "Of course." He inclined his head toward me, and I hesitantly stroked my fingertips over his ropy scar. It twisted, thick and slightly purplish, the scar tissue not fully healed. I flinched back slightly, withdrawing my fingers and moving away to sit on Pony's bed.

"So, what are you doing here, Keegan?" I asked, playing absentmindedly with Pony's hair. The strands tickled my palm as I brushed my hand over his short hair. _He needs a shower, _I thought, but once I heard Keegan's voice I felt my mouth drop open.

"I came to tell you that in repayment for saving my life, I have paid Pony's medical expenses for this visit, and for any medicine he might need afterwards in after affect of this trauma." I froze mid brush as I processed this, and then fell over myself talking.

"Keegan, I- you don't have to feel the urge to- paid? In full?" I stuttered, feeling the rims of my eyes draw up with liquid. I wiped it away hastily, my eyes not leaving his face. He fidgeted for a moment, then went to Pony's head, pushing hair away from his face, and picking up his clipboard. Walking to the doorway, he stopped, silhouetted in light, looking like my own personal angel.

"Darry, you saved my life. It's not guilt money, or anything, I promise, "he said, his eyes and voice sincere. "Think of it as me repaying my debt." Then he walked away, smiling back at me as he turned the corner and vanished. I cradled my head in my arms and cried for the first time since Pony came back. _My family was going to be okay. _Then I shot up. _Aw, shit! Where was Soda?_ Then I took off down the hall to save my brother from whatever he had managed to get himself into this time.

**Hi guys! Sorry it took me like forever to update! *rolls eyes* I had a ton of homework, but I have a long weekend starting Thursday, so hopefully I can put out the next chapter! This one's Sodapop's POV!! R&R guys!! Thanks so much for reading!**

**Love kait**

11


	7. Author's Note Number 2

Oh yeah…this is ANOTHER author's note since I have the memory of a goldfish….*smacks head*

So then....credit for the name Keegan goes to ponyboyluver260….thanks for the kickass names babe!! And BIG hugs and thanks to bookfish for being awesome and PMing me and being so sweet!!! Thanks for reviewing! They are the metaphorical air i breathe! lol

Love Kait


	8. Mending

**Kait: I SWEAR ON SODAPOP I OWN THE OUTSIDERS *smirks***

***Sodapop appears out of thin air* Soda: Now, that wasn't very nice, now was it?**

**Kait: ARGH! Where did you come from?!?!**

***Soda laughs evilly, and leers down at Kait* Oh, ve have vays…..**

**Kait: FINE! S.E. Hinton owns you guys, but*peering up at Soda* Soda, can I have a hug?**

**Soda: *looks confused* ah, sure. *Hugs Kait, then disappears* **

***Kait dances in victory * YESSS!!!**

**Songs for this chapter: You don't belong- Daughtry & Waiting for Yesterday- David Archuleta **

**Any given time or place, I  
never will forget the disgrace on  
your face so full of love  
Will it ever be enough?  
Ten feet tall and bullet proof, I  
never thought that I had a thing to lose  
well it looks like after all I do**

**You don't belong- Daughtry**

I'm gonna have to choose

Chapter 6- Mending

Sodapop's POV

Fighting against the bitterly cold wind that had seemed to come out of nowhere, I shivered and huddled deeper in the skimpy jacket Dar had found for me in the hospital's lost and found, walking faster. I had to get to Two-Bit's house and convince him to help, and then go get Steve to back me up with some extra muscle ( I knew he would help me with anything, he was just that good of a best friend). I would need some help if I wanted to make sure that brat of a kid stayed away from my family, forever. My teeth were chattering madly and I was shaking slightly.

I could feel a clock ticking somewhere, taunting me. It made me instinctively move faster. _I was running out of time. _I broke into a run, the wind making my eyes tear.

If anybody had passed by, they would have seen a sixteen-year old greaser running on the side of the busiest road in Tulsa at 6:30 A.M on a cloudy Saturday morning, paying no attention to the cars zooming past, ruffling his red-gold hair, his eyes angry and brewing with the makings of a meltdown. I heaved an angry breath between my gritted teeth, raging at myself internally. Pain flashed through my foot as I hit a hole and I regained my balance, stumbling.

The clock tolled in my head, the deep vibrating gong making my head throb.

_Stupid, stupid, STUPID! _I yelled at myself, flinching as dust spiraledinto my eyes. I scraped my sleeve across my stinging and burning eyes, wincing at the feeling. Turning into our neighborhood, I paid no mind to the houses slowly waking up, watery sunlight creeping across some of the roofs.

Still jogging, I relished the feeling of my lungs burning slightly, my muscles tightening and burning with every step I took. It felt good; to feel physical pain instead of the wracking mental agony I had felt since Pony collapsed. I skidded to a stop in front of a small, brown rancher house with a wraparound porch and a chain-link fence out front. Two-Bit's house. This was he lived with his two younger sisters, Linda and Mary, and his mother, Alice. I hopped the fence, too impatient to open the lock and walk in like a normal person. I was a greaser for a reason. It's not that we didn't see and acknowledge the laws; we simply chose to ignore them. They didn't matter in the play of our lives; they were just minor complications. I ran up the stair, my feet pounding out on the creaky old stairs. I hammered on the screen door, my heart beating out a rhythm against my rib cage, so hard I thought my heart would fall out of my chest onto their dirty porch. I raised my fist impatiently to whale on the door again when I heard a muffled groan, and the shuffling of sleepy feet pattering on the wood floor. Then I heard something connect with furniture, most likely a shin with their coffee table.

"Holy Toledo, Batman," I heard him groan, stumbling over something his youngest sister must have left in front of the door. "I need to know who the _fuck_ could be stupid enough to come knocking at my door at seven o' clock in the damn morning. They must have a death wish, or something," he continued threateningly, as he scrabbled at the door and I heard the scrape of the door lock. _Whoops. _In my haste I had kinda forgotten that not everybody's sleep schedule was as screwed up as mine these days. _Ah, well. He'll live getting up early this once,_ I decided as I shifted from foot to foot impatiently.

The door open a hair, just enough for him to peer one sleep-hazed gray eye out, blinking sleepily, obviously annoyed and ready to chew out whoever had ruined his lazy weekend. His eye opened wide and he flung open the door when he focused on me, practically vibrating with impatience as I jittered around, almost knocking over their rocking chair that teetered lopsidedly by the door ,a small table with a wilting flower by it, potted in a clay bowl of sorts. I almost smiled when I saw what he was wearing. Two-Bit was clad in a huge Mickey-Mouse shirt that almost hit his knees and pink pants that stopped slightly above his ankles and were ah, _very_ tight. He saw me looking at his clothes and growled, "It was my night to watch my sisters, and this was all I could find," he grouched, shivering in the cool air as he crossed his arms and tried to look tuff besides his hot-pink pants.

"Soda, how's the kid? He's- he's awake, right? He's talking and breathing and all that important stuff, right?" He asked; his eyes smoky with sleep but wide with concern as he pulled me inside, shutting the door behind me and dragging me to his room, the last door in the hallway off the living room. I stumbled along behind him, taking care not to trip over the jump-ropes and dolls that littered the floor.

Two-Bit's house wasn't really exactly messy, but I know someone like Cherry Valence's mother would have walked in and had a heart attack instantly. There was a cluttered little kitchen painted bright yellow tucked in behind the living room scattered with toys, papers stacked a foot high on the coffee table set in front of the little color TV, and a few empty beer cans and dirty plates stacked in the corner haphazardly. There was one long hallway painted a dark blue sprouting off the living room to the right; down here was Two-Bit's room, the little room his sisters shared, and their mother's room. It wasn't just a house. This cluttered little home sang with love and affection, so much it almost made my head hurt. Our house didn't always feel like this; sometimes it was cold and stiff and unwelcoming, like after Pony and Darry yelled, their words wrapping around my heart like an iron vice. It was very rarely that there weren't some bills to pay, a visit from the state to worry about, or Pony and Darry fighting. These days, our house was rarely a home. It was more like a warzone.

I shuddered while crossing my arms and squeezing my torso, trying to make the aching throb in my heart go away. Two-Bit was chattering away as he led me through his door and pushed me gently on his unmade and rumpled bed. His voice dimmed as he stepped into the bathroom, still talking through the closed door. He emerged a moment later, his pj's in his hands and wearing jeans, a green shirt, and his prized leather jacket. Dumping his shirt at the pants on the floor, he sat next to me and scanned me over. He grabbed my shoulders, looking at me straight on. I locked gazes with him, trying to fight back unneeded tears. knowing I looked a mess. His face softened as he took in my wrinkled and thrown-together look. I didn't know why I still wanted to cry. I felt hollow and empty; like some old beer can that a person threw out of their car to lie in a dirty gutter, alone and unnoticed. I even wore shoes without being told today, a record-breaking first.

"Damn, Soda. You look like hell," he commented, tossing me a clean t-shirt he had unearthed from his overflowing dresser drawer. I accepted it gratefully, unzipping my jacket and taking it off, then throwing on the grey shirt over my thin undershirt I had thrown on at the hospital. I looked at him, fire in my eyes.

"What did you expect, Two-Bit?" I said acidly, shrugging my coat back on with sharp, angry movements. Two-Bit's eyes followed my rough movements, but he remained still otherwise, watching my every move. "Did you think I'd now be whistling show tunes and skipping around merrily? My _little brother_ is in the _hospital,_ for god's sake. I won't be anywhere near normal until he's better," I muttered, standing up and pacing cagily around his cozy room. Two-Bit grabbed my arm, ignoring when I tried to pull away gently.

"Soda," he said, swinging me around to face him again. "Sodapop, what's yanking your chain?" I looked away for a minute, too angry to speak. I could feel the words building up as my anger simmered and grew, until I reached my bursting point. I threaded my hands in my hair and yanked in frustration, my words spilling out uncontrollably.

"_Everything,_ Two-Bit. _Everything is wrong._ Since Pony got hurt, since Dally and Johnny died, nothing is right. I just want it to go back like a year, re-wind the clock, _something_ to stop this horrible stuff from happening! I just, if Pony doesn't get better- I don't know, man. I- I might have to _kill _myself or something!" I looked up, my chest heaving from my rant, to see a ghostly-white Two-Bit, his mouth open in shock, his eyes wide and almost frightened. He almost threw himself at me, pinning me to the wall with his strong hands. I noticed he was shaking ever so slightly, which worried me. Two-Bit almost _never_ lost his cool.

He put his face so close to mine I could see each of his eyelashes, and the faint freckles that dotted the bridge of his nose. I tried to squirm away. I didn't like being this up-close and personal. It made me feel like he could read every emotion on my face, stare into my eyes and see down to my tarnished and bruised soul. He shook me, hard. My teeth clatter and I stared at him, trying to figure out where he was going with this. His eyes glistened with a film of tears, and he took one hand away and angrily swiped at his eyes, turning away almost as if he was mad. Taking a shaky breath, he released me, angrily knocking over a book that was on his bed. It hit the floor with a loud _thud_, then lay there, dog-eared and open, its spine now broken from the hard toss.

Two-Bit swore quietly then look at me fully, his eyes shining. I was almost scared of this new Two-Bit, one that showed his heart on his sleeve and had a bruised and broken heart, too. I asked him, real quiet, "Two-Bit, what's wrong?" He whirled around again, knocking a pile of clothes off the top of his dresser. They landed in a heap, covering the book. Two-Bit paid no attention to the minor havoc he was wrecking on his room. His hands now flew to his hair, brushing the unruly mop out of his eyes as he looked at me brokenly.

"Soda, we can't lose you, too. We already lost Dally and Johnny and maybe Pony, and we won't survive if you off yourself. Damn it, Soda! Why can't you see that we need you as much as we need Pony, just like we needed Johnny and Dally, only Dally didn't _see _that, and Johnny didn't have a choice, and it's just not fair! I- you- we," He stuttered, running out of steam on his rant. He looked at me again, waiting for me to say something. I stood glued to the floor, blinking stupidly as I tried to process what he just said. My mouth opened, and then closed, like a guppy fish I sometimes saw at the lake, if I looked real hard, and stayed still for a long time.

Two-Bit sighed once, softly when he realized I wasn't going to say anything in response. He crossed the room, bridging the gap between us. Shaking me slightly again, he looked intently in my eyes and whispered, "You are needed. _Never, ever,_ again, say something like that to me or anyone else again. Or I'll drag you by your ear to the school and chain you to a desk. Forever. You dig?" I looked at him wordlessly, and then nodded. Two-Bit relaxed, the last fight going out of him. That was one thing about Two-Bit. He never doubted his friends. He was like a golden lab, friendly and loyal, unless you hurt someone close to him. Then he was a snarling, angry dog yanking at a breaking leash. If there was one thing I knew Two-Bit couldn't stand, it was seeing his friends get hurt. "Good. Let's never bring this up again, okay? Now-" he looked at me, cocking his signature eyebrow move. "What was it you came here in the first place for?" He questioned, sitting on the bed again and drawing his knees up to his chest. I nodded again, feeling a huge weight float off my chest. I could tell that I was healing from my losses, the scars that criss-crossed my heart, lest me broken. But I had the gang. I had hope, and love left. I just couldn't forget it. I crossed my arms and walked across the floor to close his door. I didn't want his little sisters, or god forbid- his _mother_ to walk in on our little scheming session. That wouldn't go over too well, I had a feeling. I took at deep breath, leaning my head against the scarred door for a minute, then turning to Two-Bit.

"We're gonna mug Paul Holden's little brother, Eddie. " I said flatly, calmly. I slammed my eye shut, feeling my anger well back up, like a cut that just won't stop bleeding. It was old hatred, greasers against Socs, magnified by the fact that he had saw fit to mess up Pony. I clenched my fists. I _needed _to hit something, but something that hopefully wouldn't slug me back. I knew if I swung at Two-Bit I'd be a dead goner.

Two-Bit was looking at me as if I was bonkers, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. I almost smiled. If I hadn't had been so angry, it would have been really funny. He threw his hands up in the air, and then took them down as something apparently occurred to him. His eyes darkened; his face became stormy and hardened. Looking at me, he growled "This…_Eddie. _Is he the one that hurt Ponyboy?" I nodded wordlessly, waiting to see what he was going to say. I needed him for this is I wanted my plan to work. For me to get my revenge for Pony, I couldn't do it alone. He stood up, towering over me, his eyes flashing. As we walked toward the door to fetch Steve, he turned to me, uttering three words.

"Let's do this."

**Hi guys! I hope you like this chapter! I know it's shorter than the others, and slightly annoying because there's no one getting beaten to a bloody pulp *ahem EDDIE ahem* but I felt that Soda had some things he needed to get off his chest. And this was one of those little chapters that the characters connect in. No problem, I think I'm gonna do two Sodapop POV in a row, so Darry doesn't catch up with him too fast. This was the first chapter I decided not to do a flash-back, so please give me feeback on that. Should i do one when Soda's about to beat up Eddie? I have a few hazy ideas, but this story is for you guys, so I want to know what you think! Also, the Poll on my profile is still open, just in case anybody wasnt to vote on Eddie's fate...*evil smile* Thanks for reading, and please R&R!**

***hugs* kait**


	9. Waiting for Yesterday

**Kait: I know, I know. I don't own the outsiders, just my little side plot thingamabob. All clear? And Soda wants to say something, **_**real**_** quick.**

**Sodapop: Hiya guys. *stuffs hands in his pockets* don't get mad at me or nothing' when you read these next few little chapters, or get mad at Kait. I made her tell my story right. She was all for knocking Eddie out with a baseball bat and leaving him in the mud, but I wouldn't let her. So….enjoy? *Soda evaporates* **

**Kait: *gaping, open-mouthed* Uh, well then. Here's the story!**

**Songs for this chapter are… Go To Sleep- Eminem and Scars- Papa Roach**

**I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut  
And my weakness is that I care too much  
And our scars remind us that the past is real  
I tear my heart open just to feel**

I tried to help you once  
Against my own advice  
I saw you going down  
But you never realized  
That you're drowning in the water  
So I offered you my hand  
Compassion's in my nature  
Tonight is our last stand

**Scars- Papa Roach**

Sodapop POV- My Choice

I strode forward, Two-Bit at my side as I threw myself into the wind, navigating to Steve's house blindly, trying to keep my eyes peeled open wide enough to see if I was about to crash into a tree or something equally painful and embarrassing. Two-Bit, his hands stuffed in his jacket, looked at me, his cheeks flushed from the wind that nipped at them.

"So, d'you got a plan to take down our friend Eddie?" His voice was cold. Business. I nodded, huffing out air from my cheeks. I checked out the battered watch we had found in Two-Bit's garage about six minutes ago that was strapped to my wrist tightly. The cracked glass face read half past eight in the morning. That was good. We had enough time to do this, and be done with this damming business before nightfall. I didn't want to be anywhere near the Soc's neighborhood come nightfall, when the story of what we had did would have spread around the city. I shuddered a little, but it wasn't from the cold. _If they found out…I wouldn't need to think about killing myself, they'd do it for me._

"Yeah, I do," I said, answering Two-Bit's question. "I say we just beat the bastard to a bloody pulp and leave him there to rot. Got any better ideas?" I asked, looking cockeyed at my buddy. He shrugged, looking fixedly ahead, concentrating on something I couldn't see, his mouth set in a fixed line. I left him alone for the rest of our walk. I knew better than to bother Two-Bit when he was in a mood like this. It was like something came over him, consuming him and making him unreachable to the gang. Well, that wasn't true. Ponyboy could always snap him out of it, whether it was with a snappy line or just the right facial expression, he could do it. Damn, I missed my little brother. _Get better Pony,_ I prayed silently, glancing over at a stony-faced Two-Bit. Then I ran the rest of the way to Steve's, Two-Bit gliding silently along on my tail, still not talking.

I trotted up Steve's driveway, not even bothering to turn toward the door, electing instead to head for the garage. If I knew Steve, and I did, he'd be in there working on his latest project. Sure enough, as we walked into the garage I almost broken my neck tripping over his feet, sticking out from underneath his dad's car. Along with music issuing from an old beaten-up radio, the sound of soft cussing floated up, along with an uneasy clanking sound coming from the underbelly of the car. I nudged his foot gingerly with my toe, trying not to startle him. His body jerked, and I heard a very loud ringing _clunk_ as his head made contact with one of the pipes on the underside of the car. I almost smacked myself in the forehead. I should have made more noise. Steve could be as jumpy as Johnny had been when he wanted to be. He yelped, crawling out from under the car and woozily standing up, swaying slightly, his eyes fuzzy and kinda unfocused. Looking at Two-Bit's amused face, I tried my best to bite back a laugh as I slowly waved my hand in front of his eyes.

"Steve? Hey buddy, you alright?" I checked, choking back chuckles and Steve moaned, rubbing a purpling mark that was forming on his forehead.

"Jesus Christ," He groaned, gazing up through bleary eyes. I glanced at Two-Bit, and then burst out in laughter, slumping on the car as Steve slowly came to. Two-Bit ended up straddling Steve's rolling car dolly, crying with laughter as he held his sides.

"Oh, my god." I said, wiping my eyes as my insane laughing fit faded, and I was finally able to stand up straight. "That was great, but Steve, you okay?" I managed to get out, excess laughter still spilling out of me as I tried to pull myself together. Two-Bit swiped his eyes and managed to struggle up, clapping Steve's shoulder, still hooting with laughter.

"You-pipe… _oh, lord_..." He laughed; his eyes once again sparkling and merry.

"Shut up." Steve snarled, still gently touching his lump. I just shook my head, feeling the smile slip off my face as the happiness emptied my stomach, curdling and turning into uneasiness and anger once more. I cupped my chin in my hands, letting lose a long sigh. _Damn _it, I was tired of always being angry, always wanting 's why this all had to end tonight. Straightening up again, I nudged Steve to get his attention. This time, I tried to edge around the subject a bit more delicately than I had with Two-Bit.

"Ah, Steve?" I asked, shoving my hands in my pockets and looking at his familiar face, one I had known for most of my life. His brown eyes landed on my face, forgetting about his verbal sparring with Two-Bit. Two-Bit was next to him, the sparkle leaking out of his eyes as the stony Two-Bit remained behind, his eyes urging me on.

Once again I could feel a clock tolling somewhere, compelling me to hurry up. _Bong, bong, bong…_

"I-Steve, well, we…" I trailed off, looking helplessly at Two-Bit. He took my cue, crossing to stand in front of Steve, crossing his arms and looking directly at Steve, his posture making it clear that Steve was going to do this, whether he liked it or not, not matter what came out of Two-Bit's mouth.

"Steve, we're gonna go get us some revenge tonight, on that _little shit_ that decided to mess with our gang, who messed with Pone. You dig?" Two-Bit said, his eyes serious, looking directly at Steve. Steve's body stiffened, and his eyes darted to me. I ducked my head down, biting my lip and scraping my toe in a pile of dust.

I looked up at their faces, at Steve's slightly questioning one and Two-Bit's no-nonsense face. I admitted softly, "Yeah. It ends tonight, once and for all. You in?" I couldn't look at Steve's face. If he said no, if he turned away from me, away from _Ponyboy…_

"I'm in." My head snapped up, and I barely restrained myself from throwing myself at my best friend and grabbing him in a hug so tight it would snap his ribs.

"Thank you so, _so_ much." I finally croaked, finally realizing how much and how far my friends, my _family_ was willing to go for me. They'd risk jail time and maybe even injury to help me. I gulped air, looking at Steve. His face only held sadness, and an oldness that seemed beyond his years, like the look Darry got sometimes when he thought Pone and me were in bed and he was alone. He'd slump down, and bury his head in his hands, raking his fingers through his hair, and simply look at the wall with a look that belonged on some old grandpa's face, not his smooth and unlined one. This was what I saw on Steve's face. Decades of sadness and fighting and pain, all wrapped up into one agonized look, a scorching gaze that burned through me and left me shaking.

"Oh, Soda," He said quietly, laying one gentle hand on my shoulder. I stared at it, not comprehending. Looking back at him, I saw the pity in his eyes, pity and empathy for my crumbling family. It was the first time I'd ever seen something like that in his deep, expressive brown pools for eyes. I had seen them shining with fiery anger or even glistening with tears, or sparking in happiness, but never pity or this deep, consuming sorrow I saw in the depth in this eyes. "Soda, don't thank me. Not for this." With that he turned, and began discuss tactics with Two-Bit.

* * *

Darry POV

**Songs for this mini-chapter **

**It ends tonight- All-American Rejects**

**When darkness turns to light,  
It ends tonight,  
It ends tonight.**

A falling star  
least I fall alone.  
I can't explain what you can't explain.  
You're finding things that you didn't know  
I look at you with such disdain

the walls start breathing  
my mind's unweaving  
Maybe its best you leave me alone.  
A weight is lifted  
on this evening  
I give the final blow.

I ran down the street, my mind going in circles. Damn it all, I should be with Pony, getting ready to take him home. Instead I was running the streets of Tulsa at-I checked my watch- _two_ in the afternoon, looking for my vagabond brother. Holy Hell, I was gonna whup that boy when I found him. Mumbling under my breath, I crossed a street while ignoring the strange looks I was getting from passerby Socs. _Stupid, stuck-up, swotty Socs,_ I internally grumbled, scanning the crowd of heads as fast as I could, trying to pick out Soda's mop of strawberry-blonde hair. _Where was my fucked-up little brother?_

"Sodapop!" I called out, still looking for Soda. Great, now I was getting long glances, not to mention incredulous looks. People were starting to edge away from me, clearly wondering if I had gone over the edge. Despite going out of my mind with worry, I really wanted to do something crazy, just to see what someone would do.

"Oi! You, greaser!" A sneering voice called, slicked and dripping with malice and obvious hatred.

_Oh, damn. I was screwed now. _I turned slowly around to look straight into the face of Paul Holden. I clenched my fists, and tried my hardest not to start slugging the life out of him.

"What," I said, my voice saturated with sarcasm, "can I do for you on this_ lovely_ Saturday morning, Paul?" He glowered, looking over his shoulder at the two other Socs he had with him, both of them reeking with new money, their clothes too finely tailored and their shoes new and shiny. About ten feet away sat a gleaming new Corvair, red and obviously bloody expensive. _Stupid Bluebloods. They just don't know when to stop, do they?_

"You just think you're hot shit, don't you, Curtis?" His arms flew out in a blur and he shoved me in the chest, hard. I felt my breathing begin to quicken, and I started to get mad, all the panic and rage over Pony, over this whole rivalry, begin to build, like a pot boiling over.

"Holden, if you know what's good for you, you'll walk away _before_ I decided to beat you to a bloody pulp. D'you really _want_ a replay of two nights ago?" I demanded, planting my feet and staring him down. Paul's jaw twitched and his eyes softened for the barest second. In that second I saw my old best friend, the Paul I used to know. I stared deep into the liquid blue, falling hard and fast into a memory from four years ago, when life was still golden.

"_Paul! Pass it here!" I called, waving my arms frantically, trying to dodge grunting players as I waved at him wildly, trying desperately to get his attention. The only way I could tell it was him, besides the number on his jersey, was the tuft of golden hair sticking out from his leather helmet. "Paul, here!" I cried again, confused as to why he wasn't passing._

"_Holden! Are you bloody deaf?" I finally yelled, giving up. His bright eyes, gleaming under his helmet, quickly glanced at me than looked away, shame overflowing in his eyes. I stopped moving and weaving through players, puzzled and kinda hurt that he would treat me so coldly. We had been good buddies ever since our first football practice freshman year, and it was now our junior year. I let the players flow past me in a sweaty, grunting stream, leaving me standing motionless on the field. _

_After practice ended a grueling hour later, I staggered to the locker room, stripping hurriedly out of my gear. Panting heavily, I shoved my pads and helmet and jersey into my bag and shouldered it, peeking through the throng of sweaty, laughing guys to try and see Paul. I finally saw him, striding toward the exit, his head ducked down and his shoulders hunched, almost as if he didn't want to be seen. That was odd. After practice we always walked home together, to the main street in Tulsa before parting ways. _

_I strode over to him, shoving his should harshly. He whirled around quickly, and seeing me, he flinched away, trying to turn around. _

"_Dar, just- just go home, okay? Leave me alone." He said almost harshly, but I could see warning for me in his eyes. I staggered back, hurt. What was wrong with him? What was wrong with this picture? We were friends. Why was he acting so strangely?_

"_Holden- Paul. What's rattling your cage?" I asked, running through all the possibilities in my head, and coming up frustratingly blank. He just looked at me, and opened his mouth, his eyes guarded, but I could see that for some reason, he was hurting. Shaking his head only once, he looked down, his shoulders slumped and his posture defeated. _

_I put out my hand to clap him on the shoulder, to try to help him, when I heard a loud voice from behind boom, "Get your filthy hands off of Paul, you damn greaser!" someone yelled, spinning me around and punching me square in the mouth. I came face to face with Jacob Wolfe. Touching my lip in shock, I looked up to see myself reflected in his angry brown eyes. My hand came away bloody, and I staggered away to lean on the wall, my mind reeling. _

_Jacob Wolfe was a year above me, a senior. His hair was dark and shiny, and he had a dimple, along with blindly white teeth and a loud, booming laugh. He didn't just fill space; he owned it, made it worth existing in. In other words, he was head of the football team, popular, a Soc, and loved by all. Except the greasers, who saw him for what he really was. He was a snake, a cheater, and a liar. Everybody else say him through a gilded veil but us. _

_My head whirled and I tried my best not to throw up in shock and sudden pain. Paul gasped, stepping slightly in front of me. I saw this through a blurry mask of pain and shock. What just happened? I had a sense of watching the scene go down around me through detached eyes, like I was watching it on a fuzzy TV. _

_Paul threw up his hands in exasperation, talking to Jacob. Jacob seemed to be yelling and stabbing a finger in my direction, his face angry and warped with frustration. I tuned back in just to hear Paul start yelling. _

"_Jacob! I told you I'd deal with this myself," Paul snarled, his eyes darting angrily between me and Jacob. I looked in confusion from Paul's slightly embarrassed and guilty look to Jacob's angry, demanding look when it suddenly clicked. I straightened up, and put my bad back on my shoulder. Without looking back, I started walking away, determined to walk away with some scrap of dignity left._

_I heard footsteps behind me and I turned at the feel of a warm hand on my arm, tugging. I looked at Paul in exasperation, pinning him with my eyes to the wall outside the gym. _

"_What the hell, Paul?" My injured words hung in the air like fog, thick and stifling. He looked at me helplessly, at a loss for words, for once. Usually I couldn't get him to shut up, short of stuffing a hot, well-endowed blonde under his nose. I knew his weakness, his strengths, as well as he knew mine. _

_When we were friends this helped us back each other up._

_Now it looked like it was going to help us take each other down. _

_I glared, the stuffed my hands in my pockets and began to walk across the football field, walking fast. I could feel anger building and I didn't want to lose it in front of Holden. _

"_Greaser, wait! Lemme explain, at least..." Paul said, sounding hopeless. I turned around and did something I never thought I'd do, at least not to Paul or anybody I counted along my friends. I punched him in the mouth. He rolled with it smoothly, and then rubbed his nose, gingerly feeling the now-swollen appendage. _

"_What the hell d'you want now, Holden? Want to insult me some more? Perhaps take a go at my brothers? 'Cause if you feel the need, lemme be the first to tell you that you won't see daylight again. " I spat venomously. Rubbing my bare arms fiercely, I was trying to make the coldness go away. I stopped when I realized the coldness was in my bones, not my flesh. He looked as if I had slapped him, not punched him out. _

"_Since when do you call me Holden?" He asked, genuinely confused. _

"_Since when do you call me GREASER?" I asked, glaring daggers. He looked away, blushing shamefully. I sighed, my body heavy with sadness. I didn't need to know how or why right now. I just wanted to go home. _

"_Paul, just leave me alone, okay? This would have happened, sooner or later. Socs and Greasers just aren't meant to be friends," I said, scuffing my battered cleat on the frosty football pitch, looking over the field at the lush grass, the huge goal posts. This was my home. So why did it now feel so forbidding? _

"_Go away, Holden. I'm not worth it, remember?" I said; my voice weary. Then I walked home, leaving Paul standing on the football field, alone. _

Blinking hard, I staggered, pulled back to reality.

"You still in one piece, Curtis?" Paul sneered. I glared right back, and answered evenly, "Yeah. What's it to you?" He looked down, then, cruelly said, "So, how's baby greaser doin'? Pull out of that coma yet?" He chuckeled cruuley, looking to his friends for their approval. They roared with laughter, but kept a close eye on my clenched fists. Holden wasn't so lucky.

He was still laughing as my fist smashed into his face.

Blood poured out from his nose, bright red as it hit the cool black asphalt.

I walked away, like I did four years ago, not looking back.

_Now, where could Soda be? _

_

* * *

_

Soda POV

It was 4 o'clock in the afternoon.

I was ready.

Two-Bit and Steve, however, were driving me batty. I stared down at the ground, trying my hardest not to scream in frustration.

"Guys, he's gonna have died of old age before we have a chance to hurt him if we don't get a move on," I growled as they rummaged around in Two-Bit's garage. Steve muttered something over his shoulder, to which Two-Bit replied seriously, looking at me quickly, and then turning back to whatever he was looking for in Steve's toolbox. He gave a victory whoop, and spun around, his face alight with happiness. I stared blankly at what was sitting on his palm until something in my brain clicked and I recognized it.

_A crowbar. _

I looked slowly from the curved piece on metal back to Two-Bit. Then I shook my head, first slowly, then faster as I resolved my mind.

"Two-Bit, no." I said, crossing my arms and refusing to take it. Two-Bit looked almost comically shocked. His arm dropped, but he didn't let go of slim cane.

"Why not, Soda?" He almost whined, looking at me pleadingly. I wagged my head in an adamant _no_gesture,my mind made up.

_I'm not going to take a life. _

"No. I won't kill him. I don't care what he did; I'm not going to kill anybody. Not like-"I stopped. _Not like Johnny had,_ I was going to say. But I couldn't bring myself to. Johnny did what he had needed to, to save Pony. I _did_ care, to the point of pain, about what he had done, but I wasn't going to inflict that kind of everlasting pain on anybody's family.

A spasm crossed Steve's face, almost as if he was going to cry. He passed a hand over his face wearily, and then he looked normal again, save for the pain buried in his eyes.

"Two-Bit, no. We're not banging in his skull with a crowbar. That's not nice to do, not even to an asshat like Eddie. The answer is NO." Two-Bit sulked for about five minutes, before perking back up and bouncing over, his before-fight high he usually got beginning to kick in.

"Guys, we gotta go. I heard that Eddie hangs out at the park on Fridays, for about an hour to practice football drills by himself before he goes home or parties till he collapses or whatever the hell he does," Two-Bit babbled. I nodded distractedly, rubbing my throbbing temples.

"Guys, let's just do this, and be done with this damning business," I grumbeled, grabbing the nearest thing I could find, which just happened to be a socket wrench, and starting down the driveway. I could almost feel Steve and Two-Bit burning holes into my neck, but they followed after me.

_Eddie-boy, let's finish this, tonight._

Darry POV

I headed down Elm Street, to Two-Bit's house. I almost passed it when I walked by, because I hardly ever went there. Two-Bit always just popped up wherever we happened to be, almost as if he had a sixth sense for his friend's comings and goings. That or he was at our house, raiding our fridge and being the pain-in-the-ass, Mickey-Mouse watching, chocolate cake stealing, laughing Two-Bit that we loved.

I jogged up his stairs, and held my breath as I cautiously rapped on the door.

_Please, please, please let Soda answer…._

I felt my breath whoosh out in disappointment as a small, blond head popped around the door, followed by a pair of eyes exactly like Two-Bit's and a small freckled nose. I sighed, squatting down to the six-year olds level.

"Hiya, Linda," I said kindly to her, smiling gently. "I need to speak to your mother. Is she here?" I said, putting my hand on the door lightly. I hadn't really seen Linda a lot since around two years ago, when I landed myself the place of the brother's guardian. I was slightly afraid she was going to slam the door in my face and turn tail. Not that I would give up or anything, but I really needed to find Soda before he landed himself in a comfy jail cell for a month or two. That would be a great homecoming for Pony. Linda was shyer than her older sister, but sweeter. She regarded me solemnly for a moment, then turned and scurried away in a flash of blond and pink.

I stood up, my joints creaking and popping as I stretched, catlike. Even though I had a messy problem on my hands, the sky was blue, and a slight chill nipped in the air, just enough to wake me up fully. Birds chirped in the half-naked trees, as pretty colored leaves in hues of crimson, orange, and yellow spiraled to the ground gently. I groaned in slight agony as my muscles protested. My little jaunt in our neighborhood was the most exercise than I'd had since the rumble. Exercise. _Work._

I slammed my face into my hands, my little high dissipating. _Ah, damn it all to hell. _I hadn't been in to work in almost four days. I'd have to go in tomorrow, whether Pony was better or not. Christ, Jeremy was going to hamstring me alive. That is, if I still had a job tomorrow. Even without hospital bills to worry about, I was still paying for our needs, and Mom and Dad's funerals.

_Fuck._

"Excuse me?" I heard in the doorway. I whirled around, not realizing I had cussed out loud. My hands flew to my mouth. "S-s-sorry, Kathy," I stuttered, blushing and shuffling back and forth awkwardly. Kathy hated, _hated_ when we boys cussed. It drove her crazy, but yet we never did stop. That didn't mean you wanted to face her wrath, though.

Kathy was an overworked, underpaid thirty-something lady with bushy red hair and fiery blue eyes, and pale freckled skin. She had the same mischievous look as Two-Bit, and it was easy to see where Two-Bit inherited his eye-brow tricks from. Kathy was the master at eyebrow cocking. I dropped my hands to my sides and twisted my shirt awkwardly, looking down at the floor as the silence grew and my ears got progressively redder. Then, my shirt ripped where I was twisting it with a splitting sound.

_Oh, crap. This day just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?_

Then, the best sound I had heard all day broke the air. Kathy laughed, and smiling, ushered me into the house, and closed the door behind me.

"C'mon. You need a new shirt. Then we can talk all about what you're doing on my doorstep, and where exactly our wards are."

Kathy tossed me one of her ex-husband's late shirts, and I caught it one handed, stepping into the bathroom to change. As I quickly changed shirts I heard Kathy ask,

"Have you seen Two-Bit today? I woke the girls up at eight today and he was gone, no note or anything," She said as I ducked back out again and tossed my torn shirt away. I snorted.

"Kathy, you must be shooting crack if you think Two-Bit would_ honestly_ leave a note. When was the last time that boy picked up a pen in his own free will?" I laughed, dodging her half-hearted swipe at my head.

"Oh, hush," She chided, cocking her eyebrow. I shrugged, still grinning. It felt so good to laugh again, to smile and for a minute, pretend nothing was wrong.

"Ah well, they're bound to turn up sooner or later, but I better go look for them before I'm fishing them out of some rat hole," I said, standing up and putting my coat back on, smiling at Linda and Mary, who had turned up during our conversation.

"Oh, you," Kathy said fondly, pulling me into a warm hug. I melted into her arms for a moment, pretending once again that it was my mother. I didn't get babied anymore because I was too busy playing the parent. It felt good, for a second, to feel like someone else was in charge, even if it was for a second.

I let her go and headed to the door, my parent mask in place once more. Before I slipped out the door, I glanced at the soda-bottle clock that hung crookedly in their kitchen. It read 4:15 PM.

_Soda, Two-Bit, please let me find you guys okay soon, so I can strangle you for leaving the first place. _

_*Peeks out from under her desk* _Please, please don't kill me. I just wanna drag this on as long as humanly possible, so NEXT chapter Eddie will get his just desserts, i promise. And this was techinally like 5 chapters (mini-sixed, but whatevs) meh....

Thanks for Reading, and PLEASE REVIEW!!!! They are the air i breathe. Well, metaphorically speaking....

love Kait


	10. Author's Note Number 3

Hiya, people of all things Fanfiction awesomeness. I know you're probably mad because you thought this was another chapter, but I've honestly only written like another two pages…..I am writing this little note of happy because I'm sad.

Guys, I've gotten over 2,000 views to my story, ( I know, I'm surprised too!) but only like 30 reviews. WHY! I write to y'all so you'll write back, give me input. Thanks to those who have PM'd me, or reviewed, it warms the cockles of my heart. So I decided those who review, even if it is to only yell nonsense at me, get a little preview of the nest chapter, Soda's POV. It's called My Choice.

Also, I'm throwing ideas back and forth with a lovely sweetheart gal whose penname is The Diamond in the Rocks. We're thinking about writing a little Johnny/Pony fluff, something really cute and full of AWESOMNESS, because that's just how we roll. I'll update you on the little piece of crazy we're collaborating if it comes through, because it'll blow your socks off! Thanks so much dahlings.

love kait


	11. My Choice

**Soda POV- My Choice**

**Songs for this chapter: Hear Me Now by Framing Hanley, and (my favorite song EVER) Ugly- the Exies**

**We are dirt, we are alone  
You know we're far from sober!  
We are fake, we are afraid  
You know it's far from over  
We are dirt we are alone  
You know we're far from sober!  
Look closer, are you like me?  
Are you ugly?**

**I don't care, you don't care  
I'm bitter, you're angry.  
You don't care, I don't care  
You love you, just like me  
I blame you, you blame me  
I'm bitter, you're angry.  
You don't care, I don't care**

**I don't own any of S.E Hinton's fantabulous characters, or the book….*pouts* **

**(AN: This is it, guys! *hops up and down in excitement* Drum roll, please!)**

I walked down the street, my boys flanking me. As the wind blew in my hair, shoving it back with invisible fingers from my bare forehead, I reveled in the feeling of being in control of my own destiny once more, steering my life back on the course _I_ wanted, not controlled by hospital visits or Socs or nuthin' but me and my gang. I almost smiled as I thought of the horrid past few weeks finally being over, my life slowly picking itself up from the terrible things that had happened. I would cry with happiness if my life would just go back to normal, with the occasional rumble, but besides that, nothing special.

_I had enough crazy now to last me a lifetime._

We kept walking, not really talking as we silently made our way down the rapidly darkening streets, turning down blocks, the golden light from the streetlights bouncing off the pavement, giving the world an otherworldly glow, almost. The streets were rapidly emptying of cars and people as the sun slipped behind the gathering thunderheads that signaled for a storm. The air was thickening, an almost tangible excitement and electricity filling the air, the thrill of the unknown. I didn't know how anything was going to turn out tonight, save for the fact it was going to rain buckets.

_Good,_I thought detachedly._ The rain will wash away the blood. _I shuddered at how cold-blooded that thought had been, shrugging off the chills that were running down my back.

I had become a different person in the last few weeks. I had been through more heartbreak and pure, undiluted hatred than any person should have to take on. I had to plunge into it headfirst. Sandy was gone, Dally was gone, and so was Johnny. I was a colder person because of it.

I knew that.

With a pang, I realized that Dally and Johnny had been dead almost a whole week. I would never see Johnny's shy smile again, come and go like a rainbow. I wouldn't see Dally smile when he thought we weren't looking.

I thought back to the happy days, when the gang was still young and carefree, unburdened with the troubles of a decaying world.

_It was a bright summer's day, and the gang was hanging out at the DX, waiting for me an' Steve's shift to end so we could get the hell out of there to go pick up our girls and take them to a movie. _

_Johnny was there, along with Ponyboy, both standing slightly off to the side, talking quietly while keeping an eye on us, making sure they wouldn't be hit by any wayward punches or flailing limbs. Sometimes, even though all the guys were older, I think that Pony and Johnny knew much more about the world than we did then and probably ever would. I guess I'll never know, not now. _

_Two-Bit was just finishing up a story about what had gone down between him and some unlucky blonde the night before._

"_And-," he hooted, nearly crying with laughter, "-And-and then, she tried to stick her finger in my-" _

"_Two-Bit!" I snapped, cutting him off with a look as I jerked my head at Pony. Pony looked up, then down again, the tips of his ears turning red as he went back to his book. I could tell he had been getting more and more uncomfortable as Two-Bit's stories continued, but I hadn't intervened until now and he had been too embarrassed to say anything. _

"_Soda, I can stand up for myself, thanks," he told me coolly, cocking his eyebrow in Two-Bit's move. I folded my arms, and stared back evenly. Steve slung his arm around my shoulder, and looked at Pony, studying him for a moment. _

"_Ponyboy, I don't think you need to hear about how much Two-Bit did or didn't get last night," Steve said, his eyes spitting sparks as he thought he stood up for me. I turned away, shrugging his hand off my shoulder under the cover of turning to fill up a Corvair that had just pulled up. _

_Pony had been getting older. It had seemed, since mom and dad- since it had happened, he had aged double, acting twenty-eight instead of his new age of 14. I needed to treat him like the young man he was slowly becoming, the teenager he was now. _

_Get a grip, Soda. I told myself fiercely as I looked at my baby brother. His red-brown hair was combed back with care, a lock curling on his forehead. He kept brushing it away absentmindedly, his bright green eyes scanning the pages of the tattered book he held in his hands, his chapped lips pursed in concentration and his nose, dotted with freckles from the relentless summer sun, wrinkled. Johnny was peeking over his shoulder, a weed dangling from his lips as he picked out words carefully from the yellowed pages. _

_I groaned teasingly as I realized what book he was holding. It was called Dead Cert, and was a murder mystery I had seen Pony read at least one-hundred times._

"_Really, Pony? That ol' manuscript again? Haven't you memorized that by now?" I poked at him laughingly as I snagged it from his protesting hands and tossed it to Two-Bit, who disinterestedly tossed it into the street, more occupied with the pretty girls coming and going than anything else. _

"_Hey!" Pony yelped, scrambling to reach his book before it got run over. Picking it up with care, he dusted it off and tucked in under his arm, turning away slightly from me to shield the book from harm's way. Johnny snickered behind his hand but besides that remained quiet, watching us all with dark, clear eyes as he took in the scene. _

"_Where's the party at?" Dallas drawled; sidling up from around the building. I jumped slightly, sloshing car fluid all over my good jeans. Aw, great. I angrily thrust the jug at Steve, and then furiously tried to scrub out the slick black oil that was staining the dark denim. _

_Two-Bit just grinned, lighting up as he eyes a curvy blonde that had just walked out of the DX. Abandoning us to talk to her, he slicked his hair back and popped the collar on his leather jacket, never mind the fact it was almost eighty degrees out. _

"_Watch and learn, boys," He muttered under his breath, sliding a smooth glance and a wink at us before going to try to pick up the broad. _

"_A little early to be fishing for girls, ain't it?" Dally murmured, but didn't disturb Two-Bit. Good idea, I thought. Two-Bit could get a bit territorial when it came to him and his blonde Barbie dolls. _

_Walking over to Pony and Johnny, he stole Pony's cigarette and coolly puffed on it, ruffling Johnny's hair in hello. Pony let out a mewl in protest, and tried to steal his weed back but Dal calmly sidestepped him and looked at him, puffing away like a freight train or somethin'. _

"_Why the hell you sitting around here, when you could be robbin' a bank or something worthwhile?" Dally asked, one side of his mouth turning up at the thought of causing general mayhem and chaos. _

"_Because," Steve said crankily, popping up from behind the hood of a car, his hair sticking to his head and a smudge of grease streaking his cheek as he tinkered on an unruly engine. "Dal, some of us actually earn our money, not take it by pure brute force," Steve snipped, ducking back under the hood again, a string of foul language issuing up as one part of the engine started giving him trouble. I hid my smile behind a window as I watched for Dally's reaction. _

_Dal merely shrugged, tossing away the butt of his smoke and grinding it under his heel. He slid on his shades, and smiled, hooking his arm around Pony's neck. He looked like Dallas Winston. He was untouchable, the epitome of cool. I saw a few girls give Dally once-overs as they stepped into the DX, but he didn't see. Girl's didn't pick Dallas, Dallas picked the girls. And they came, and he used them, then dumped them without a second thought. He was a true greaser. Dal was also a bit strange sometimes. Almost anything could get him frosted, from kids to adults. It was a miracle he put up with Ponyboy, seeing as he was just a kid himself. _

"_You do it your way, I'll do it mine," He said, rubbing Pony's head with his knuckles. Pony squirmed out form his grasping hand and scampered over to stand by Johnny, rubbing his head tenderly. _

"_Ouch," Pony complained, looking at Dally with rueful eyes. _

"_Jesus, Pony," Dallas said, eyeing the book that was sliding from Pony's grasp and snatching it up, "You're reading AGAIN?" He said curiously, looking over the faded yellow cover. "Christ, I thought that was just a phase, but no, you're one of a kind…" He finished, shaking his head in awe. Then he scanned the back of the book, his smile turning into a look of thought. _

"_A murder mystery? Why, I do believe our little Cowboy is growing up!" Dal said sarcastically, tossing the book back to Pony. Cowboy was something he had taken to calling Ponyboy as of late, just to rattle his cage. He knew Pony hated pretty much anything to do with horses. How ironic it was that his name practially was a horse on its own. _

_Pony and Johnny looked at each other, and burst out laughing. Johnny held out his hand and Pony slid five dollars into it, still giggling. Dally looked as confused as I and Steve did. Dal wedged himself between Pony and Johnny, looking at them._

"_There's a bet going' on and you didn't cut me a share?" Dally pretended to be wounded. He placed a hand over his heart and looked at them fake-sadly. "Jesus, and I thought you guys were my buddies…" _

_Johnny pretended to be offended. "Are you calling us Socs? Put 'em up!" He pretended to duke Dal in the chin. Dal just laughed, batting Johnny's hand away. _

_Pony laughed too, joining in on the fake fight. I watched them for a moment, chuckling to myself. Two-Bit looked over in spite of the hot blonde and had to laugh, too. Steve only watched them, his eyes showing nothing. I wish he would lighten up to Pony, I thought wistfully. _

"_Dal! I'll tell you! Lemme go!" Pony shouted, his face flushed, his eyes twinkling as Dally pinned him while Johnny tickled him mercilessly. _

"_Not until you tell me…" Dally threatened, dangling Pony's book over the icebox. _

"_Fine! We were betting on whether or not you were literate….whether or not you could read!" Pony gasped out, his lack of proper air making his words slur slightly. I motioned with my head for Dal to let him up and he did, looking wounded, for real. Pony's book fell unnoticed by any but me, to the floor. _

"_You guys honestly thought I was dumb, eh? Jesus, I ain't stupid!" Dal commented, glowering at Pony and Johnny as he straightened up, all pretenses of playing gone. Johnny shrank back but Pony stood firm, looking Dallas in the eye. My jaw dropped. Nobody, no mortal person ever looked a mad Dallas Winston in the eye and lived. Pony seemed to be faring quite well for a soon-to be corpse. _

"_Dal, it wasn't that, it's just…we know nothing about your past. It was an honest question, swear! Neither of us meant nuthin' by it, I promise!" Pony said, panicking slightly. Dally relented a little, looking Pony square in the eyes. Steve's jaw tightened, but he made no move to interfere. I was a tense as a live wire, waiting for Dally to start swinging on my baby brother. _

"_Next time you have a question about me, you come to me, you hear? None of this dumbass bettin' stuff. It's stupid." Dally didn't sound mad, just…tired. As if he'd seen too much, and didn't want to think about the past no more. He rubbed a palm over his face, pushing back his dark mop of hair. _

_Johnny stepped forward tensely, a question in his eyes. I sprung to attention once more, afraid Johnny would trip a nerve in Dal, and then it would all be lost. _

"_Dal, how d'you want to die?" Johnny asked almost casually, as if he was asking what Dallas had for dinner. Dal looked at Johnny for a moment, as if he was really seeing him for the first time. He rubbed another weary hand over his eyes, and then began speaking. I even stopped working to listen, leaning against a car frame. _

"_Johnny, you have to understand…Damn, I ain't good at this," Dallas sighed, looking first at Pony, then Johnny, then finally me. _

'_I grew up in New York. Those were bad times, real bad times. My mom died when I was seven, and dad started drinking and hitting me. I realized he didn't give a hang about his life, or mine. So I left, and joined my first gang, the Hell Burners. They taught me what was true in life: trust no one. We were just a bunch of kids, trying to survive, trusting nobody. We weren't a family. We were a cult of young boys living on the streets. _

_The first time I got in major trouble was when I was ten. Actually, it happened on my birthday. Ironic, isn't it? Double digits lands me in a police station. I had gone in to steal some smokes for my best friend and I. His name was Johnny, like you, Johnnycake." Here he paused from his intent story and gave a faint smile to Johnny. Johnny, eyes wide, merely nodded in response, urging him silently to continue. So Dally kept talking. _

"_The clerk caught me on my way out, and Johnny ran. We were buddies, yeah, but on the streets you always, always put yourself first, even before family. The fuzz dragged me in, and when I refused to talk, they gave me over to a boy's home, out in rural New York. I stayed there for two months, until they gave me back to my ol' man. Two days later I ran away, back to the gang. They welcomed me with open arms. Nobody noticed little kids back in those days. We were just pieces of furniture, wallflowers. _

_So I was the thief, the kid pickpocket. I did the dirty work for the guys higher up the food chain, took the beating when the shit hit the fan, that kind of stuff. I was in and out of detention centers almost monthly. _

_My life changed when I met Rocket. That wasn't his real name, but that's what all the younger kids called him, 'because he could run like the fuzz were lighting rockets on his heels. He dug us, watched out for the little kids. He was one of us, although he was sixteen. No matter how tough he was with the older guys, he was cool with us. I think his real name was Seth. I didn't know that until he died, when the Police pulled out his wallet, when i went back to the park to find him lying there, long gone cold as he lay in a pool of his own blood. I think i truly became a greaser that day. _

_It happened after I was about twelve, and had known him about a year. We were jacking off in the park, being kids, something we didn't get to do much of. It was just me an' him, something that didn't happen much either. There was always one or two young 'uns hanging around Rocket, as if hoping to soak in some of his cool, collected façade. The park was quiet, and dark. The trees rustled and swayed, the shapes crawling across the blacktop as the single overhead light from above beamed down, flickering once a minute or so. _

_I think we were playing basketball, goofing around. I hadn't felt so happy in a long time, since before my mom died…" Here Dally broke off, staring into the distance as a muscle in his jaw jumped. He shifted, jamming one hand into his pocket. I picked up the oil can and stared intently into the car, concentrating on pouring the exact amount of needed oil into the engine. The glug-glug-glug of the flowing oil was the only thing that broke the silence, but I kept staring into the complicated machinery. Steve would be all over me like peanut butter on bread if I messed up something this easy. _

"_Go on..." Johnny murmured, his eyes wide, like a startled colt's. Dal shot him a quick smile before patting down his pockets, in search of a light. His had just gone out and he tossed it away disinterestedly, in need of another._

"_Hey, Pone," He called to my brother, who was standing there as if he was in a trance. The sound of his name seemed to snap him out of it._

"_Yeah, Dallas?" He said, blinking. Dal smiled briefly, and then nodded at the box of weed sticking out of Ponyboy's pocket. _

"_Mind if I snatch a cancer stick, Kiddo?" Dally said jokingly, holding his hand out. It was a rhetorical question. No one said no to Dal, about anything. Pony nodded an affirmative, and tossed the box to Dallas. Dal caught it one-handed and pulled out a slim white tube in the same moment. Holding it gingerly between his teeth, he dug a light out of his pocket and lit up, breathing in deeply as he threw the cigarettes back to Pony. I could see his shoulders relax as the nicotine hit his bloodstream. He tugged the cigarette from his lips and started speaking again, breathing out a stream of smoke. _

"_We were in the park, about to head back to the abandoned church we slept in. As I turned halfway to pass him the dying basketball we brought with us, I caught a shape out of the corner of my eye. I whirled around as my hand grabbed his arm, tugging sharply. His head snapped up, his eyes scanning the surrounding area. If you weren't able to fight in zero to sixty out here, you stood no chance of survival. You'd be killed before you could think. It was purely instinct when you were on the streets. _

'_Rocket, there's someone else here,' I said in an undertone as my body tensed to run. Fight or Flight. That was all I had known in my days in the gang. You run to survive; you fight if you have no other option. The figure shifted, my eyes followed. I recognized the boy as soon as my eyes touched on the red fray of hair that crowned his head, the freckled cheeks, and the jade-green eyes that poked out from his translucent face. Thomas Mulligan, a hot headed Irish immigrant boy from another gang who had it in for Rocket, for some unknown reason. _

"_Rocket! Run!" I cried, throwing the basketball down as the figure lunged, hitting Rocket head-on. Rocket went down hard, falling like a stone, a surprised look on his face. The teenager began punching Rocket everywhere he could, showing no mercy. Rocket took no time to recover before he began bucking and fighting like a wildcat, trying to get up to fight. _

"_NO!" I felt myself cry as I threw myself into the two-man rumble. I couldn't lose Rocket. He was all I cared about out here. He was my air on a dead planet. A hand pushed me away and I bit hard, feeling blood coat my teeth as I shook my head viciously, ripping skin from sinew. A strangled cry split the air as Thomas tore his hand away, slapping me so hard I saw stars. I staggered back, my head reeling._

"_Ouch," I heard myself whimper as my hand rose to the heated, agitated flesh. Shaking my head twice to get rid of the buzzing I ran at Thomas as fast as I could, pounding my fists into the softer, more vulnerable flesh of his stomach. He bent double, groaning as he momentarily stopped punching Rocket. Rocket sprang up, a dark cut slowly winding down his tanned cheek. He touched it slowly, wincing as his hand came away bloodied. _

"_Why you little…"Rocket growled, murder in his dark eyes for the boy who had spilled his blood. Thomas tensed but didn't move, his glassy eyes flickering between me an' Rocket. His chest rose and fell rapidly, along with his pulse that jumped on his neck. He scanned over me, then Rocket as they slowly circled each other. I stood tensely to the side, my fingernails biting into my palms. Surveying the scene, I looked for something, anything I could pick up to hit Thomas with. _

_That was when a pair of contracting hands closed around my neck. Thomas had obviously picked me as the weaker target, I thought furiously, struggling madly as I lashed out backwards with my feet, yelling and writhing. _

"_Let…go!" I managed to choke out, my hands flying to the much stronger pair wrapped around my vocal chords. Rocket stopped, his eyes wide. Panic infused his voice as he threw his hands out pleadingly. _

"_Please, Thomas…don't hurt Dallas. He's just a kid. Leave him alone. Beat me up, but let him run." He said quickly, his words running together in an emotion-filled jumble. I stopped struggling for a moment, hanging there like a ragdoll between Thomas's huge hands. _

"_No…" I choked out, but fell silent when the hands tightened. Rocket took an uneasy step forward, skirting away like a deer in the headlights. _

"_Go…" I managed to whisper with my rapidly depleting air source. Rocket's eyes were frightened saucers, the brown depths simmering with deep hatred._

"_No." He said stubbornly, stalking around Thomas like a hunting dog, looking for an opening to reach in and grab me, I suppose. _

_I reached back, elbowing Thomas in the gut with all the force I could muster. Even at age twelve, I wasn't too little. I could take down almost anybody that got in my way, except Rocket. He could flip me off of him in about six seconds on a bad day. All the other times, I was toast. _

_Thomas released his breath in a gushing whoosh, but tightened his grip stubbornly. I retched in pain but feebly fought back. The panic flooded Rocket's eyes as he realized I couldn't win and he was helpless. _

"_Thomas…let him go. I'll fight you; just…he's only a kid." _

_Was Rocket pleading? I shook my head in adamant refusal. Rocket was strong, confident, and cool. No, Rocket couldn't be pleading. Could he? _

_I could hear Thomas's panicked breathing ease as he thought about this. His grip loosened slightly, but just enough that I could siphon air to my burning lungs. _

"_Rocket…go." I croaked once more hopelessly. WHAM! Thomas's hand tightened once more as he whirled and slammed me into the blacktop. I heard a sickening crack as my head hit the ground, but no pain._

_The pain didn't come until later._

_Rasping, I wriggled and kicked, watching Rocket with eyes that swam with black spots. He walked closer, his hands up, like a criminal showing the fuzz he wasn't armed._

_But he wasn't the bad guy here._

"_STOP!" Rocket shouted, his voice breaking with panic. "You're gonna kill him! You want that kind of blood on your hands?" He yelled, his eyes flashing like a lion's in rage. Thomas looked up at him. I could image his eyes slitting as it made it to his thick brain that I wasn't the one he wanted. He spoke for the first time, his voice low and gravelly. _

"_The kid walks, and I get you." It was a question._

"_Yes."_

_Hands released me and I choked, trying to rub feeling back into my numbed throat. I gasped, scrambling to my feet. _

_Ouch._

_I swayed back and forth blindly, and opened my eyes just enough to see Rocket grab me by the shoulders, hard. _

"_Kid, you gotta jet. I don't know how this is gonna go down. Get out of here, get backup, some of the older kids. Don't. Stop. Running." He said urgently, locking eyes with me._

_Hazel met brown. _

_I ran, looking back. It had started to sprinkle, and the thunderheads overhead crackled ominously, lightening splitting the sky in white-hot streaks. Rocket was squaring off against Thomas, both boys' hair matted to their head. He looked back, his freckles standing out dark out his nose against his stark white skin. He gave me a genuine smile, one filled with promise and caring. _

_Then he turned to fight for his life. _

_That was the last time I saw my friend Rocket alive. Then I decided I wanted to die after saving someone I love. I want to die nobly, repay my eternal debt and all that shit. I want to die at the end." _

_Dallas looked up, and cleared his throat. The silence echoed dumbly as the three other boys tried to absorb what they had just heard. Johnny was the first to speak._

"_I want to die for the greater good, y'know? I'll feel good if I do something for others," Johnny said evenly, meeting eyes with us one by one. I nodded slowly, walking over to Pony and draping my arm over his shoulder. Pony didn't acknowledge this, didn't even move. I shook his shoulder slowly, trying to bring him back to the world._

"_Pone?" I asked, still trying to read Dal's expression. He cast his eyes downward, suddenly interesting in the glowing cherry-red ash of his weed. _

_Pony looked up slowly, his expression still dazed as he pulled out of his dream world, the one he retreated to._

_I hated when he went places I couldn't follow. _

_I was even more taken aback when I saw that tears glistened in his expressive story grey eyes. _

"_Something bad's brewing Soda," He said with a troubled expression. Puzzled, I glanced up at the sky. It was just approaching twilight, the sky darkening slightly as the bright blue faded to a dusky lilac-blue. _

_I shrugged, turning my attention to a couple of broads pulling up in a rusty truck. I gave them a bright smile, stepping down the curb to fill up their tank. _

_I thought no more of what Dal or Pony said._

_I should of. But I know better now._

I was shaken back to the present by Two-Bit. He was looking at me quizzically, his head cocked like an inquisitive squirrel.

"Where'd you zone to, buddy? You've been walking for like ten minutes with a blank look on your face. Anything wrong?" He asked; a look of slight caution on his face. I had been known to lash out when asked touchy questions, usually with heavy objects or my fists. Once, after I had a bad fight with Sandy, I had thrown or toaster though the wall. Darry hadn't been too happy about that one. But now I merely shrugged, setting my jaw. We were almost at the park, rounding the last corner.

_It ends now_.

In the faraway distance, I saw Eddie Holden, tossing something up in the air, and then catching it neatly in what looked like a baseball glove. Adrenaline jolted through my body, setting my nerves on fire. I gripped my socket wrench tighter, feeling the reassuring bite of metal into flesh before stowing it safely into my jacket. I wanted to have a little chat with Eddie before I messed him up.

The grass crunched frostily under my feet as we stomped toward Eddie. Only a few months till school was out, I realized numbly. Ponyboy would be frantic when he woke up. _If_he woke up. I shook this thought violently out of my head. This was for Ponyboy. I'd think of him later.

I looked over at my best friends, my brothers. Steve was shivering slightly in his thin t-shirt but otherwise looked determined, single-minded. I knew he didn't give much thought to Ponyboy, but he wanted to protect me from myself. He knew me inside and out, knew that if I killed Eddie I would never forgive myself.

Two-Bit was nearly vibrating with anticipation, but under that I could see a layer of grimly suppressed agony. Two-Bit hated when his friends were unhappy. He was like a mother hen, messing up anybody who messed with our heads or bodies. I knew he was taking Pony's case especially hard, since he felt like it was kinda his fault.

I set my shoulders as we came within hearing distance of Eddie. I shrugged on a casual walk, putting my hands in my pockets. The air crackled with energy, the puffy grey clouds casting menacing shadows. The sun was gone from the sky, either have already set or just hiding, I didn't know. The wind swirled around us like an ally, tossing our hair and rustling the grass, flattening it out then nudging it gently back up, the tiny green stalks waving tentatively in the breeze.

They, like us, were helpless against the harsh wind, just like we were powerless against fate.

_Well, here goes everything,_ I thought with a heavy internal sigh. Then I stepped forward and did something I never thought I'd do: I tapped a Soc on the shoulder.

The baseball dropped to the dirt with a thud, where it would stay until it was picked up by some little kid days and days later.

Eddie whirled around a look of complete surprise on his face. He clearly had thought he would be left alone at 6 PM, when all the small kids had headed home for dinner and the older kids to bars or to pick up broads.

He hadn't counted on us.

Steve's fist smashed into his face lightning-fast and quicker than even I could blink Two-Bit had him in a tight headlock. I stepped forward as Eddie struggled helplessly, his eyes wide and panicky. Blood dripped slowly from his nose.

"Hello, Eddie." I said pleasantly, looking down at him. My heart was beating a million miles a minute and my palms were clammy.

"Wha-?" He muttered, still reeling from the slugging Steve had given him. I looked at him blankly, hoping I wouldn't lose my head and start whaling on him. It couldn't go that way.

I had to teach him a lesson: nobody ever picks on my little brother.

I looked at him with cold eyes; the eyes of Dallas Winston. Looking up at me, he paled; everybody knew this look.

"You messed up Ponyboy so bad he's in the hospital. Eddie Holden, I swear to god, if you've fucked up my little brother more than he already is, you won't live to see tomorrow," I snarled, spitting harshly in his face. Spit dripped down his cheek in a slow arch, curving down his gaunt cheek.

Then he spoke.

"I-I didn't know he was your little brother," He stated, shaking his head violently. Blood flew out from his face in a long arch, landing in the grass, where the crimsion gleamed starkly against the brilliant green.

I laughed once, the sound ringing out loudly in the otherwise empty field. On the playground a swing swung back and forth, creaking loudly in the wind.

"_You didn't know he was my brother_? What kind of lame-ass excuse is that? So you'd beat up some _other _greaser's brother, but not _mine_, 'cause you knew we'd come and mess you up?" I asked harshly, practically yelling as I bit off the words one by one and spit them out.

Two-Bit's eyes met mine, and they showed no mercy for the boy that hung limply between him and Steve. Steve turned and pummeled him once in the stomach, then growled lowly, "That was for Ponyboy, you good-for-nothing Soc," Steve said, his eyes sparking with deep hate.

"You won't walk away from this unscarred, you little shit," Two-Bit growled, hefting him up so he was face-to-face with me. I met his eyes. My eyes showed no mercy for this teenager who hurt my brother. His eyes glinted in fear and anticipation of what was to come.

"You won't know the meaning of pain until we get down with you," I said softly, letting my soft words carry on the wind until they reached his ears.

We locked eyes.

Then he began yelling.

"PAUL!" He screamed, his voice cracking in panic as his blue eyes, so like Paul's, darted around frantically.

"He won't come." I said softly, my gaze still on his face. "If he does. It'll be too late. I'm not cruel, though. I'll give you more of a chance than you gave Ponyboy. I'll let you go before you slip into a coma!" I spat out, slapping him across the face. "LOOK AT ME!" I screamed wildly, my temper shooting through the roof when he refused to look me in the eyes. So he was okay with beating my little brother black and blue, but he didn't want to own up to it?

At that moment, my hatred for Socs deepened into straight-out revulsion.

"Scream all you want. I just don't care anymore," I said quietly, drawing back my fist to knock him out.

Then I heard a panic-filled yell behind me, hoarse with fear.

"NO! Leave him ALONE! He's just a KID!"

I turned around as soon as the pounding footsteps stopped.

Two-Bit's eyes widened the tiniest bit but he kept his hold firm on Eddie.

"Just leave, Paul." I said evenly, looking at Eddie's older brother square in the eyes. "I won't hurt him as bad as he hurt my brother, promise. Some of us actually have an inkling of a heart." I said, pacing forward to stroke my hand across Eddie's jaw. He whimpered softly through a clenched jaw, his eyes darting back and forth between his brother and me.

Paul looked at his little brother, taking a hesitant step forward, his hands searching unconsciously for a way to help his little brother.

"Beat me up instead, let him go." Paul whispered hopelessly. I didn't blame him. Three against one in any situation wasn't good odds to beat. Eddie's head snapped up.

I had heard words, very similar to those, moths ago.

"_Thomas…let him go. I'll fight you; just…he's only a kid." _

"_What? _NO, Paul! I-I'll be fine," Eddie said, straining as hard as he could against Steve and Two-Bit.

Two-Bit laughed without any humor. "No, you won't," He chuckled mirthlessly, his eyes cold steel. "You'll be lucky if you can walk home after we finish with you. " Steve said nothing but planted his feet, strengthening his grip on Eddie's arm. Eddie winced in obvious pain but said nothing, maybe hoping if he made no noise Paul would leave.

I drew back my fist once more, intent on making my message clear. Eddie squeezed his eyes shut tight.

"NO!" Paul grabbed my arm and threw it to my side.

"He's just a kid! Why are you doing this to him? What has he ever done to you?!?"

That was the wrong question.

I punched Paul so hard his head snapped back.

Blood spurted from his nose, which was already swelling. Eddie yelled so loudly my ears throbbed, and he threw himself against his restrainers. Steve and Two-Bit had been watching with tense eyes, but now Two-Bit roared in frustration and smacked Eddie's head down, holding it there so he couldn't look up.

"Jesus, Soda!" He roared. "Let's do this and leave!" Two-Bit screeched, struggling mightily with Eddie, who was currently trying to bite his leg. Steve had let go to help me pin down Paul.

At that moment the sky decided it was high time to pour. Rain pelted down from the sky, soaking the five of us to the bone. The ground quickly turned to mush, making us slip like we were on a mudslide.

_In that second, my world narrowed down to one thing as everything else faded away. I had to find Ponyboy._

I yelled in frustration, looking up at the heavens in disbelief. _This can't, isn't happening, _I said to myself in complete disbelief, slightly hysterically. It was like the rumble all over again.

I was reliving the worst day of my life, even worse than when the police came to tell me mum and dad were gone for good.

Then my cheekbone exploded in pain.

I staggered away, cupping my throbbing cheek. I looked to my left to see Steve full-out wrestling with Paul. Paul's arm was still drawn back from the punch he had delivered to me, his face contorted in lines of anger.

"Nobody messes with my little brother!" Holden yelled, looking like he wanted to punch my face in. I threw my hands up in complete and total annoyment.

_I couldn't see my little brother, and that scared me something awful. What if he was hurt? _

"Why the HELL do you think I'm slugging Paul? I'm teaching him a lesson for putting MY little brother IN THE HOSPITAL!" I yelled as loudly as I could, staring him down, daring him to look away first. His face scrunched up in lines of confusion.

"_Pony? Answer me, goddamnit! Ponyboy, are you okay?"_

We stared at each other, the rain plastering our hair to our skulls. I blinked hard, forcing a trickle of water out of my eye. His blue eyes glinted icily, and his body was tensed like a livewire, as was mine.

In that moment I saw myself in Paul.

We both loved our brothers; and would fight to the death to protect them.

We both didn't know where we belonged.

We both wanted to please our families.

Maybe Socs and Greasers weren't as different as people seemed to think.

My world rocked violently as I realized that I chould choose tonight whether or not Paul Holden went home with a little brother or not.

It was my choice.

I stepped away, blinking hard to keep from letting tears loose.

Steve currently had Paul in a deathgrip, even though Paul was a good three inches taller than Steve. Two-Bit was wrestling with Eddie madly, trying not to step on his as he hopped around. Eddie's hands snaked around his ankles and tugged powerfully, and Two-Bit hit the ground with a _thud._

_The bigger they are, the harder they fall._

_Dally, his body twisting like a broken rag doll under the streetlights, on the rain-slicked streets, our screams echoing in the air as gunfire rang out, blasting through our ears and etching into our memories._

That was when I made my choice.

Shaking his hair out of his eyes, Two-Bit let out a warcry of outrage and pinned Eddie down, lining up his fist with Eddie's nose, which was still bleeding freely.

"Two-Bit," I said quietly, still staring at Paul. Two-Bit continued sitting on Eddie, pressing harder on his throat. Eddie made a choking noise, and started to turn blue.

"_STOP!" Rocket shouted, his voice breaking with panic. "You're gonna kill him! You want that kind of blood on your hands?"_

"I ran over to Two-Bit, wrenching his hand off of Eddie's neck. Eddie shuddered once than breathed deeply, struggling to stand. Steve had back off when he saw me let go of Holden, but he still kept a wary eyes on his hands. Two-Bit looked up at my in complete surprise, looking like a drowned rat in the pouring rain.

"Soda, wha-?" He said puzzledly, cocking his eyebrow.

"We're done here" I said quietly, looking at Paul help up his little brother and check his neck, not caring that blood was streaming down his own face and staining his t-shirt.

"I- let's gone home." I said again, suddenly bone-tired and just done with this all. I knew Eddie wouldn't mess with Pony again, and that was all that mattered. I rubbed my hand over my face, swiping away the rain.

I started walking.

Two-Bit and Steve, though utterly confused, obediently started following, shooting each other confused looks.

I looked back, just once as I headed out of the park and down the street.

Paul was helping Eddie the other way, toward the rich side of town. He looked back as well.

Green met blue.

He mouthed _I guess we're even!_ And I let a tiny smile slip, and nodded slightly. I would consider us even if Pony woke up. And maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't hate Socs so much anymore.

But that would have to wait for another day.

Just then, the rain stopped. I looked up in amazement, shaking my head. _Jesus God, you have really bad timing,_ I thought, waiting up for Two-Bit and Steve and slinging my arms around their shoulders.

We walked to my house in the dark, just happy to be together.

I reached into the eaves of the sagging porch and groped around for a key, smiling in triumph when my hand hit metal. I dragged it down and unlocked the door quietly.

Then I remembered there was no Ponyboy sleeping on the couch, draped over his unfinished homework as the TV blared in the background. I had no clue where Darry was.

My house was cold and unwelcoming.

I shivered and rubbed my arms. The house was cold and dark. I stepped into the living room, and flicked on the lights.

Nothing had changed since the night we brought Pony to the hospital. My DX shirt was still draped over the couch, and Pony's homework lay completed on the table.

Steve and Two-Bit were right on my heels, and for once they didn't slam the door. Steve stopped before he ran into me, and Two-Bit slammed into him, hard. Steve absentmindedly turned around and steadied him. They were chest to chest.

Two-Bit gave Steve an odd look before pushing off his hands.

"Lay off man, I don't swing that way. You know I like my girls big and blonde, not rat-faced and male," Two-Bit joked, half-serious.

Steve merely rolled his eyes and flipped Two-Bit the bird.

I snorted with laughter before tiredly kicking off my shoes and slumping on the couch.

_I hope we get to bring Ponyboy home soon,_ I thought drowsily, my thoughts running together in a sleep-hazed blur.

I dimly realized that Two-Bit and Steve had also sat down, and had become silent.

I curled up in the corner, resting my head on the scratchy armrest and tucking my arms into the warmth of my body.

_I miss you, Ponyboy,_ was my last conscious thought. But it was hours before the tears stopped running down my cheeks.

(A/N ) I hope you guys like this! I think *sniff sniff* this story is nearing a close….mayyybe three or four more chapters? Anyway, if you like what you read, puh-lease R&R!!!

Love, Kait (p.s. - this chapter was the hardest to write – I was crying as I wrote the fight…but this is what I think is my best chapter... I hope you like my little bit of crazy. Xxx Kait)


	12. A Brother's Pain

**Chapter 9 is finally here! I am so sorry it has taken me forever and ever to update, but I have been super busy. I give many smiles and thank-yous to my wonderful part-ninja Beta, Lo. Taylor. Thank you for fixing, mending, and tweaking my story to perfection! Go read her stuff, it remains cooler than mine. Oh yeah….I don't own the Outsiders, or S.E Hinton. I do, however, play with these wonderful characters and bend them to my will. Enjoy!**

Beat me, hate me  
You can never break me  
Will me, thrill me  
You can never kill me  
Jew me, Sue me  
Everybody do me  
Kick me, Kike me  
Don't you black or white me

All I wanna say is that  
They don't really care about us  
All I wanna say is that  
They don't really care about us

-They Don't Care About Us by Michael Jackson

* * *

**A Brother's Pain- Darry POV**

I was soaking wet and more pissed than a Soc who lost his weekly pocket money from Mummy and Daddy. And believe me, that was a hilarious situation on a regular basis.

But this wasn't even remotely funny.

It was ten o'clock at night, and I_ still_ hadn't found Soda. Despite running all over the city and even heading all the way to the DX on the other side of town to see if he and his damn partners in crime had stopped there, I hadn't found anyone who had seen him since before the rumble.

All I got from the bored Soc behind the counter at the DX was a sneer and the hairy eyeball. I didn't stay after that, choosing instead to knock a glass bottle off the shelf on my way out into the wet night air. Yeah, it was childish and stupid and something Dal probably would have done, but I was hopping mad. It had made a nice tinkling sound as it broke, which was coupled with the streak of swearwords the teen had chosen to throw out after me, being too lazy to chase me out of the store.

I had to admit, being a grease had its perks.

Great. I was running in circles like a headless chicken, ending up with nothing to lead me to Soda. Not to mention I couldn't feel my fingertips, and I could feel the temperature dropping with every minute I spent pacing around in a complete tizzy.

Grumbling to myself, I stuffed my hands in my drenched jeans pocket and hunched my shoulders, not liking the way my breath came out visible in the chilly air. I kept clenching and unclenching my hands in an effort to keep the blood flowing. I hadn't been this cold since the last time I pulled an all-nighter on a roofing job about three months ago. After one of my co-workers slipped off the roof and broke his hip, I swore up and down to a worried and annoyed Ponyboy and Soda that I would never work another night job again.

And yet, here I was, tramping through my neighborhood at night, searching for a 16 year old kid. This was more of a chore than my actual job.

Boy howdy, I was_ freezing_. But I couldn't blame the weather.

After all, I was the dumbass who decided to go running all over the city in search of his delinquent teenage brother. It wasn't the temperature's fault I had a bone to pick with the Socs who single-handedly destroyed my life. Oh no, that was _their_ fault entirely.

But I was still really, really cold. I sighed, stopping on the corner of Cedar. Putting my hands on my head, I turned full circle, trying to decide what to do now. Now that my world had significantly crumbled in on itself.

I _needed_ to find Soda.

I _wanted _to check on Pony.

I _had_ to go home.

_Oh, what a tangled web we weave,_ I quoted as my years of schooling swam through my hazy mind. I didn't know where the quote came from, but it pulled to me enticingly. As I sank deeper into a sadistic game that was now out of my hands, I could feel my brothers pulling further and further away, therefore dragging me through a sticky web of things that were totally and completely out of my league.

I felt lost, and unfit to parent my two brothers, to guide them and teach them. I longed for the familiar lazy summer weekends where I pulled Soda and Pony out of bed for scrambled eggs, and laughingly batted away Soda's hand as he tried to sneak in green food dye "_to make it more interesting."_Then we tugged the whole gang out to the lot for a rough game of tackle football, after rounding them up one by one. It was one of those things even Dal had always joined in on, when he wasn't out picking up broads or picking fights.

I loved being able to play again, even if it was just for fun. Two-Bit's laugher rung through the air, joined by Pony's boyish giggles and Soda's full-blown belly laughter. It had always been the best day of the week, the sun shining brightly and fully in the sky, the sky so bright blue it looked glazed. In the summer, the grass in the lot always grew longer, so it swayed lazily in the buttery, warm breeze. We would just flop down between downs and lay back, panting, and trying to squint at the brilliantly bright sky. I wanted something I knew.

Okay then, home it was.

I hesitantly turned around, stepping out into the streets. My shoes sloshed through a number of deep puddles before I got to the other side of the busy street, turning and heading home as I dodged the dark cars, their shining headlights and blaring horns disorienting me, even on the short trip to cross the street. I huddled deeper into my t-shirt as I walked fast, trying not to look at the people who were glancing at me cockeyed, obviously wondering why I was almost jogging down a street soaking wet in the middle of the night.

I didn't want people staring at me right now. I felt like I would snap if one person so much as glanced at me funny.

I picked up my pace, splashing manically through puddles, bright street signs and ads flashing by in a liquid blur. People flew by as I broke out into a run, their different faces blurring into a meaningless mix of color and babble. So many people. They each had their own heartaches and families and places in this messed up world.

It could all be taken away with one twitch of a finger behind a trigger.

_Gunfire rang out._

"_No!" I yelled in despair, skidding to a stop as the tight-lipped fuzz took their aim and shot, not even listening to our hoarse cries that ripped from our agonized throats. Bullets spat out of the cold grey guns faster than my eyes could track. I knew when they had hit their target though. The crack of the gunpowder exploding left an acrid taste in my mouth, and made my eyes burn and water like mad. Well, that's what I told myself, anyway. _

"_He's just a kid, NO!" My scream ripped through the air at lightning speed, shattering another little bit of my heart. Pony jolted to a stop beside me, his stormy eyes huge as the boy he had known since he was ten died in front of his horrified eyes. _

_Dallas. NO._

_Shots rippled through the air as Dallas jerked around wildly with the force of the bullet's impact. A twisted smile slid from his lips like blood as he sunk to the ground, gasping. Crimson slid down his chest, staining his favorite leather jacket. _

_We have to wash that later for him, I remember thinking disjointedly as I shut down inside, operating like a wooden marionette on a tangle of strings. He couldn't be dead. __Dallas was young. Tough. Invincible. He….wasn't allowed to die. Because if someone as tough and indestructible as Dal could die, where did that leave the rest of us?_

_As Dal fell, all hell broke loose once again. __As soon as he fell, out of the corner of my eye I saw Pony crumple._

It was all too much.

I stopped dead in the street, my chest heaving wildly as my eyes flew aimlessly from one object to another, skirting around. I moved in a daze to the sidewalk, to step just inside an alleyway. I sank back on the cool brick, the only solid thing in my world right now. A car zoomed by, splashing dirty water onto the curb and soaking some poor woman. She wasn't very happy in her new wet state, I could tell from the profanity she was yelling.

I cradled my head in my hands, letting total and utter fatigue sink into me, chilling me to the marrow of my bones. I was so done with all this, so done with the world.

I let a loud, tearless sob fall from my lips as my heart trembled, dangerously close to splintering.

_I can't take this anymore, _I thought brokenly, watching my hands tremble as I shivered with cold, my breath puff out in fragmented clouds that twisted in the black air. I was broken.

My brothers looked to me for guidance, for advice and a parent figure. I was the one who picked them up when they were down, fed them, and gave them a place to live, someone to look up to. I was the strong one, while Pony was the smart one, Soda the quirky one.

But even the strong break sometime.

I let my head loll back against the wall with a loud _thunk_. Looking up at the sky, I marveled at how dark and clear it looked, and how the stars sparkled like diamonds on velvet. I felt my heart beating solidly under my thin t-shirt, the pulse thudding in my ears. I put my palm flat on my chest, feeling the solid drumming, like a hyperactive hummingbird. I was still alive, while Johnny and Dally weren't. Mum and Dad neither.

_Damn, my life was fucked-up. _

I heard footsteps outside my alleyway, and I immediately tensed up, imagining a ten-foot tall bouncer or something. I stood up and staggered drunkenly, all the blood that had pooled in my feet doubling back and rushing to my head. I caught myself on a dumpster, my hand smacking the cool sticky metal with a hollow ringing sound.

"I-…who's there?" I asked, clearing my throat awkwardly as my voice cracked out unevenly. _I'm going to blow up if someone decides to mug me, tonight of all nights;_ I thought furiously, widening my stance as the footsteps stopped.

I had been in my fair share of fights, but I never liked swinging at some swaggering kid who thought it would be funny to have a go at my brothers or me. They never knew what was coming as my fist connected with their jaw, not even as they fell. I usually walked away amid dirty looks, but I was okay with that. Anything I could do to protect Soda and Pony, so be it.

It had happened too many times.

There had been too many rumbles, too many fights with drunkards harassing Pony and Soda.

I was so done with being a Greaser.

I shook the pins and needles out of my arms and stepped forward, my stone mask securely in place. I could practically see Dallas shaking his head in disgust.

_Dar, I thought you were smarter than this,_ I could see him snarling, a cig hanging from his fingers. _Jesus, you trying to leave Pony and Soda without a brother, too?_ He'd chuckle, raising his eyebrow and nodding in a sarcastic all-knowing kind of way.

I rolled my shoulders and took a deep breath before stepping out of the alley, my jaw clenched.

I expected a crazy greaser.

I expected some Soc with a pistol.

But as always, Fate laughs on the wounded and the beaten.

I got Paul Holden.

We looked, dumbfounded at each other.

The silence didn't last more than two seconds.

"Have you-" I asked, smirking.

"Tell him-" he said at the same time.

We both began at the same time, and then stopped, me stepping slightly closer. I started talking again, scanning him over. The tension was thick enough that even Two-Bit's new butterfly knife wouldn't have been able to make a dent in it.

"Jesus Christ, Holden. What the hell chewed you up and spit you out again?" I asked, taking in his swollen, black eye and the split lip with blood crusted on his chin. His precious sweater set was ripped and rumpled, and his khaki pants were splattered with thick mud all up the back and front.

He laughed. It wasn't a happy laugh, it was one that slid down your back and rested in the pit of your stomach and made you think of dark corners and glowing red eyes. I shivered slightly, shifting from one foot to another.

"The hell, as you so kindly put it, was your younger brother and his hooligan misfits," Paul sniffed out, sounding like he should be holding a tiny teacup in his hand while talking to girls in southern-belle skirts with long curls and crisp hair bows. Yech.

Then his words hit me harder than a fist.

"_The hell, as you so kindly put it, was your younger brother and his hooligan misfits...."_

Unthinkingly, my hand flew up and I tried to process this. Soda was safe. My knees buckled and I grabbed the wall for support. That was good. I tried to restart my heart while I thought this through.

Soda. Wait. If he was alive, what the hell had he been doing, beating up a Soc like Holden?

"Holy shit," I breathed, not even noticing the look of pure malice that was spreading across Paul's face. He laughed, low and horrible, his perfect even tooth glinting in the street light's harsh glare. The sound slithered under my skin as my relief petered out. I crossed my arms and gazed at him.

"What's so funny, Holden?" I asked, cocking my eyebrow. His sneer grew more pronounced.

"So, Curtis," He said, his words sliding like spoiled milk, "Does the State know you lost your underage brother today?" I froze, unable to think, unable to comprehend what Paul could do with this information. Then, the rage crept in, staining my trail of thought, of any possible reason I could bring to this situation.

If I lost my brothers, I'd go mad.

I moved to him faster than I thought possible, slamming him up against the wall so his head was thrown back, hitting the wall with an unsettling _crack_.

"You—" _crack "_will—" _whap _"NOT—" _crunch _"tell—" _smack _"ANYBODY."I ground out through my teeth, his head hitting the wall harder with every word I spoke.

Eyes unfocused, he groaned, pushing at me feebly as he tried to ward off my advances. I dropped him in disgust.

"You sicken me," I said, spitting at his limp feet. And he did. He had no interest in anybody but himself; he didn't care if I lost my family.

I remembered something my father had told me once, after I had come home shaking after I broke off my friendship with Paul.

"_Son," he had said, his dark eyes serious for once as he laid a huge, warm hand on my trembling shoulder, "Dar, some people, like your friend Paul—" _

_As he said that, I had shaken my head in a movement that was part convulsion, part denial as my shaking increased tenfold and I huddled into the comforting familiarity of our worn brown couch. _

"_I—he's not….he's not my friend," I spat out, looking down at the carpet and feeling two feet tall. Being verbally and mentally dumped by someone you had once considered brother status could do that to a person. In the doorway to the kitchen I could see my mother ushering a concerned and confused Soda and Pony away, herding them to the table just out of view of the living room with promises of chocolate cake. _

_He moved his fingers from my dirty, sweaty jersey to my cheek, tilting my head so that I had no choice but to look at him straight in the eye. His mouth, framed slightly with wrinkles from over the years, was turned down in unhappiness, clearly hating my inner fight. _

_Darrel Sr. was a handsome man, in his late forties with thick hair that was dark brown like mine, but his was slightly streaked with glimmers of silver on the sides. Soda had his eyes, hazel and dancing, and able to say a thousand things without even opening his mouth. I really loved him, and looked up to him for everything. He was my light in the dark. _

_My dad was one of those rare, special people with a gift, almost a sixth sense of knowing exactly what someone wants to hear when they're down. But what came out of his mouth was not in any way reassuring. _

"_Darry," Dad said, gazing straight through my eyes into my very soul, "Darrel, you will find out in life that some people don't care about others. They don't care about bribes; they don't care about personal gain. People like that simply want to watch the world burn, and laugh as it does. Be on your guard for these people. If you can't tell what people are like with this—" here he touched my temple with gentle fingers—"then you must use this," he whispered, moving his hand to cover my heart. _

_Confused and still hurting, I nodded, padding away on dejected feet to join Soda and Pony for cake, to reassure them that I wasn't going to do anything stupid. I looked back when I reached the kitchen door to see my father still sitting on our couch, looking old and tired. His eyes were ancient in their sadness. _

_I turned away and looked at my mother and brothers. Soda was jokingly trying to smush a handful of cake into Pony's protesting mouth as he laughed and complained in the same breath. My mother was watching them with her chin cupped in her hands, her green eyes full of love; her hair falling over her shoulder in a shimmering curtain of rust brown. _

_Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my dad heave a sigh and run his fingers through his hair. He stood up and walked to my parent's bedroom, closing the door with a quiet click. _

_I hesitated, wavering between joining my brothers or going and having a heart-to-heart with my father. After a long moment, I turned back and went into the kitchen._

_I never regretted that decision more. _

_Four years later, I want to follow my dad into his room and talk._

But now, it was too late for that.

Paul stirred slightly, his hand coming up to touch the back of his head. His trembling fingers came away dark and covered in a thick liquid. He looked strangely small, lying on the ground in an alleyway.

_Blood._

We both stared, transfixed. Then, shaking off my stupor, I leaned forward, checking him over once. He looked worse than before, almost helpless. He lay still on the damp cement; the flickering light washing out his deep tan and making him look pasty. Now that his thick blonde hair was in the little glimmer there was, I could see the blood caked there.

_He lay spread-eagled, his eyes open but seeing nothing. The deep brown was flat, like the fizz when it left a soda. Blood ran in rivulets down his chest, and a few feet Pony lay as still as Dal did, his cheeks flushed what I thought was fever, his breathing shallow and rapid. _

"If I bring my brother home tomorrow and he's in one piece, I may even let you live," I sneered down at him, still feeling the dark anger pulsing in me like my thudding heart.

He finally spoke, his words slightly slurred from the hits he had taken to his head. He was tougher than I'd give him credit for, I guess. But that was no excuse for what he had done.

"Whaddya mean?" he murmured, his bleary eyes trying to focus on me unsuccessfully.

"I mean, I am going to leave you here, you low-life piece of scum," I growled, my brows knitting together as I looked down at him.

Then I walked away.

"Soda, if you are hurt, I'll kill you myself," I snarled, breaking into a fast jog.

Then I splashed across the water-soaked streets into the cold Tulsa night.

**OooOohhhh….cliff-hanger! Will Darry find Soda at home? Or will he have already slipped away to who knows where, the JD hood that he is? Stay tuned….and I will try to update as soon as I can! R&R, por favor! **

**Love, Kait**


	13. Purple Pancakes and Car Magazines

**What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you,  
And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up that you're ok**

**They say bad things happen for a reason  
But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding  
Cos she's moved on while I'm still grieving  
And when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven... no**

**Breakeven- The Script**

_I was so cold._

_I shivered, moving closer to Darry for warmth.__Dar slowly released his grip on my hand only to replace it around my shoulder.__ I leaned slightly into him, needing the human contact. I hated graveyards. Naw, that wasn't the right word. I hated Socs. I hated being alone. I hated bein' helpless. I _detested_ graveyards. Wow, was that a big word. I dunno where it came from, since these days it seemed like I was having a helluva time just putting one foot in front of the other. _

_In my head, graveyards were dark and scary, with shadows, and the trees bent and crippled-like.__ The only sound that I could comprehend was our breathing, louder than normal in the dead silence. Behind me, I could hear someone's breathing hitch and stutter in time with her quiet sobs as she visited a tiny grave near the corner of the yard, a sleeping baby carved on the stone. My heart jumped and I looked away, not able to share her pain, too. My heart was already far too close to ripping from the strain of my brothers' agony as well. _

_The graveyard was far enough away from the hopping nightlife of Tulsa that no sirens or normal noise reached up the hill to the black gates. The chirp of crickets sounded very far away as my heart drummed loudly in my ears. I swallowed quietly, averting my eyes from the dark forest. I was creeped out enough without the thought that something might leap out from the trees and eat us. _

_A little bit more of my heart wrenched away from the whole as I turned my gaze to a certain part of the graveyard. It was the newest part, the dirt was still overturned and cool , and there was no grass growing on the two newest smooth mounds. _

_Behind a huge towering tombstone I knew there were two smaller stones that lay slightly crooked under a weeping willow, its bending and dipping branches dusting the top of the graves. _

_Mum. Dad. _

_I walked to the corner of the graveyard, closer to the section that held the fresh pain; The open wounds on my heart cracked wider with each shuffling step I took._

_It had been two months. _

_It only took two minutes for their car to skid down the ravine by Lover's Bridge on the North side of town, and maybe two hours for the man that hit them to get so reeling pickled that he couldn't see straight enough to drive. He had hit them head on before hitting a tree and coming to a stop – alive, but concussed -- only feet from the side of the craggy cliff. _

_Mum and dad hadn't been so lucky. Their car had crumpled under the strain of the impact, like a tin can under a heavy foot. They had gone head over heels down, down, down…only stopping when they hit the bottom, thirty or so feet down. _

_Yet we would now have to live our lives without them, all because of those two minutes.  
_

_It was real hot in that damn graveyard, even though night was comin' down on us like a drunk Two-Bit. I shifted side to side, accidentally bumping into Pony. He teetered, startled and caught off-guard. _

"_Sorry," I muttered, throwing out a hand to steady him. He fixed me with solemn green eyes, the normally bright color surrounded by tears. As I watched, his eyes slowly spilled over. It had been so long since I had hugged him, even touched Pony. I hadn't been able to hug him, to comfort him the way he needed. He was a baby after all, barely 13 years old. _

_My world shuddered as I realized I had abandoned my little brother just when he had needed me most. I had been there through the black eyes, the cut knees and the bloody noses, but never through heartbreak. I had never needed to be, until now. _

_Letting out all my breath in a whoosh, I shrugged off Dar's hand to throw my arms around Pony. Dar stepped back from us, shoving his hands into his pockets and giving an almighty sniff. His eyes were slightly red, and his hands wouldn't stop shaking. _

"_Oh, Pone," I said sadly, feeling tears make my world go blurry as I ran a hand through his soft hair, threading my fingers into the strands and tugging slightly so his head rested on my shoulder. "Ponyboy, don't cry," I choked out, sniffing mightily to hold back my tears, to stay tough for both my brothers. "Don't cry now," I managed to get out, pulling myself away from Pony long enough to roughly wipe my eyes and clear my throat. I hated crying, even though I seemed to be doing a lot of it lately. Crying made you soft, made you look weak. If you cried in front of a Soc, you were done. There was no hope for a greaser who didn't live up to his status. _

_Ponyboy nodded, gulping air and staggering the last few steps until he reached Mum's grave. He kneeled down, threading his fingers through the dirt and sifting it in his hand, staring hard at our parent's simple graves. I know it killed Darry that he couldn't afford anything more elegant for the people who had loved us and raised us for so many years. I also knew that he was having trouble paying off the funeral, even with the bit of money from our parent's will, not to mention that he now was our legal guardian. _

"_If…if they were here, what would they think?" he asked, his voice cracking. "What would they think of us bein' hoods, an all?" Pony looked up at me, his lip trembling. I sighed tiredly and tugged Darry forward with me to sit with Pone at their graves._

"_I-I dunno, Ponyboy," I answered truthfully. I honestly had no idea. I didn't know if our mum would cry, if dad would sigh and shake his head, or cuff me on the head and smile. _

_We had always been greasers in a sense, hanging out with our gang, sneaking into movies, going to the vacant lot…..hell, I had been doing most of that stuff since I was able to get out of the house on my own. But now…it seemed different, more…dangerous. There was no mother at home now to stitch up our wounds, no father to bail us out of sticky situations. There was more at stake now than ever before. If Pone or I got in trouble….we could be sent to a home, or even worse, to an orphanage. _

_I shuddered just thinking about it. I grabbed Pony's hand, then Darry's. Dar smiled at me distractedly, looking out into the rustling trees. Their deep green, rapidly darkening in the dusk, was real pretty. I smiled slightly, comparing the color to Pony's pretty eyes. I had never really looked at any shit like trees before, but since mom and dad died…I don't know, things seem more __there__ then they ever did before. I poked Pone to point them out to him, but he was looking west; his eyes tracking the pink sky and the sinking sun. _

"_Pone, look-" I began before a surprised shout from Dar scared the ever-loving shit out of me._

"_Guys!" he yelled, pointing frantically to me and Ponyboy and then to his battered watch. "State appointment- you two…FIVE MINUTES!" he practically screamed in my face, and then yanked us up, bolting down the hill as fast as his long legs would go. Pony and I looked at each other for a stunned minute, and then flew after him, through the gate and into the street. _

_Just one more thing to get used to, I thought grumpily as we sprinted through our neighborhood. Stupid State visits. They came nosing in once every two months, weaseling into our lives and questioning everything we did. The first visit we had--only two weeks after mum and dad died--was from a lady with hair an eye-watering shade of orange and a nose like a parrot's beak. _

_She had insisted on staying with us for lunch. Still reeling from the fact that we were now somehow parentless, I had said I would make lunch. It was probably the dumbest thing I had ever offered. Not thinking, I had stupidly tried to make pancakes, basically the only food I could make without burning. When I was twelve I had gone through a phase where I would only eat pancakes and chocolate cake, so my mother had happily taken that opportunity to teach me how to cook at least something. _

_I had poured the batter into a bowl and stirred it as I looked for the battered griddle I knew we kept somewhere under the sink, wincing at the squeaky sound the door made. It seemed to loud in our usually loud house. I glanced nervously into the family room, where the lady, Sarah, sat._

_She was shooting questions at Ponyboy one after another as he answered each one quietly, glancing at me as he wiped his clammy hands on his jeans. I could see Darry leaning on the windowsill on the porch with Two-Bit, smiling encouragingly whenever Pony peeked his way. Then that smile would fade the second Pone glanced away, replaced with worry lines as he talked in an undertone with Two-Bit. _

_I sighed, reaching into the cabinet and pulling out what I thought was vanilla at the time. That was the special ingredient that mum always put in her pancakes to make them extra good. I smiled at the memory, pouring a stream of the liquid into the bowl. Not really paying attention on my cooking job, I kept focused on my little brother. I absently poured the batter out, flipping the pancakes when they sizzled and trying not to trip over my own feet. _

_Finally, the pancakes were done. Not looking down, I slid then onto a plate, gathering a stack of smaller plates and cracking open the fridge to retrieve a bottle of syrup. I closed my eyes and breathed in, loving the simple smell of pancakes, steaming hot. Smiling slightly, I walked into the dining room and threw everything on the table._

"_COME AND GET IT!" I shouted before remembering that there was a government worker in our house and that she might not like being shouted at like a bunch of cows. The gang was used to it, but then again Two-Bit didn't mind eating food off the floor. Our idea of normal was slightly messed up. _

"_Er- I mean…." I stammered, "Lunch is..um…served?" Groaning silently, I heard the screen door slam as Two-Bit and Darry walked inside, bringing the smells of spring in with them. Sarah's footsteps click-clacked against the kitchen floor as she joined them, followed by Pony's shuffling feet right behind her. Pony walked like a a greaser that had just been told he had to take ballet. I grabbed him just as he was about to pass me in the doorway and yanked him back into the kitchen, saying, "forgot forks, sorry," over my shoulder to Sarah, who looked suspicious as she seated herself as far as possible from Two-Bit, who was waggling his eyebrows at her, ignoring Darry's promised death threats._

_As I grabbed a handful of forks and a jug of water I muttered to Pony, "You alright?" _

"_Yeah," he said quietly, not meeting my eyes as he took the forks gently from me and headed back to the dining room, his head hanging like a scolded puppy's. _

_All of a sudden, I heard Two-Bit's hoot of laughter and Darry's mortified moan from the dining room. Frowning, I walked back into the room, setting the water on the table with a bang. Putting my hands on my hips, I raised an eyebrow at what I was seeing. Darry had his head in his hands as Two-Bit chortled into Pony's shoulder. Sarah pursed her lips in distaste, busing herself with reapplying her ugly red lipstick and checking her reflection in a tiny mirror. Pony bit his lip to hold back his laughter and smiled for the first time in two weeks, winking at me. I winked back but had no idea what was so funny. Was I really that bad of a cook?_

"_Something wrong with the food?" I asked the table at large, refusing to meet the social worker's eyes. In my mind, if I pretended she didn't exist, I might be able to live through this visit without blowing up at her. _

"_Ah-no, Soda, it tastes fine," Darry said shortly, glancing at Sarah before giving me a half smile, "but I was just wondering why my lunch is dyed purple, like everybody else's." When Dar said that, Two-Bit let out a fresh howl of laughter, pounding the table so hard the forks clattered. _

_Then I looked at the food for the first time, and my hands flew to my mouth in shock. Somehow, I had managed to turn the pancakes a bright, shocking purple. My eyes widened and I trembled with trying to hold in a burst of laughter. _

"_Ok…nobody eat them, ok?" I managed to get out. "Just…lemme make sure I didn't poison them or nuthin'," I called over my shoulder as I turned. _

_Sarah's eyes widened in mute horror and I could imagine what she was going to write down on our report: __**Middle child so scatterbrained that poisons food? They keep poison in their kitchen?**_

_I walked back to the kitchen to the soundtrack of Two-Bit's laughter and began searching among the pileup of ingredients on the counter, two at a time. Finally, three minutes later, I found what I was looking for. _

_Bursting back into the room, I silently held up a bottle of purple food coloring. Two-Bit, who had just calmed down, burst out into laughter once more. I noticed that all of his mis-colored pancakes were eaten, along with Pony's and Dar's, but the social worker hadn't touched hers. _

"_I...I guess I thought it was vanilla," I explained with a shrug, sticking the bottle into my pocket. Pony laughed, shocking us all. When he did, the first smile I had seen from Darry lately spread across his face. Two-Bit reached out and tugged me down into a chair, passing me a plate. I loaded my plate up, suddenly real hungry. _

_Sarah stood up and tucked her purse back under her arm. We all stopped breathing as she surveyed us, her eyes darting over me, then Pone, then Dar. Then we all relaxed as she said softly, "This is a….strange home, but I can see that you are all very happy here together. I shall be making a good report back to the state of Oklahoma." And with that she walked out of the room. None of us talked until we had heard the screen door slam behind her, and her high heeled sounds fade, then her engine start up as she drove away. _

_Then the tiny room exploded with laughter._

"Soda." I stirred, still in my memory. I didn't want to wake….didn't want to go back to the real world.

_Pony hugged me tightly, almost dipping his elbow in a pile of syrup. Laughing, I swiped some of it onto my finger and smeared it onto his nose. _

"Sodapop?" A different voice than the first one called.

"Mppphgm." I said sleepily, flopping over and ignoring the nagging. I was soooo tired….and my head felt like someone had hit me with a bottle.

_Darry walked around the table while Two-Bit watched, his eyes glinting happily. He slung an arm around each of our shoulders and-_

"Sodapop Cutis! Get your ass UP!" A female shouted, sounding spitting mad.

I fell off the couch with a thud, my hand hitting the coffee table. Ouch. I winced as my eyes flew open and I looked up blearily to see a very angry, very dirty, Darry standing by Mrs. Matthews. Steve and Two-Bit were both still asleep in the chairs, their heads limp and their mouths open. I smiled slightly before rubbing my eyes with the hand that wasn't throbbing in time with my head.

"Hiya, Kathy," I said sleepily. "Hey, Dar. Where you been? Why're you so…dirty?"

Darry's mouth opened and closed like a guppy out of water. Darry never ran out of things to say, so this was quite rare. I carefully pulled myself up and staggered a bit, catching myself on the back of Two-Bit's chair. I reached down and shook Two-Bit roughly, slapping him on the back of the head.

"Hey, Bit," I said, trying to stay out of Darry's swinging range. "Two-Bit, your…uh- mother is here."

Two-Bit stretched, opening his eyes up slowly and yawning, his jaw popping. He rubbed his head and stood up, coming face to face with his mom.

"Wha? Mom? What are you doing he-" he began, strutting toward her with a half-smile on his face.

_Crack_

Kathy had hit him across the face with a car magazine from our coffee table as hard as she could. Two-Bit blinked, a red welt rising on his cheek. He raised his hand to his cheek just as she swung her arm back to hit him again. Tow-Bit was slightly quicker though, and ducked his head into his arms, letting his hands and forearms take most of the hits.

"Ouch! Jesus, woman!" he yelled, tripping over the rug in his hurry to run away.

"You-get-BACK-here- NOW!" Kathy screeched, swinging at every inch of her son that she could reach. I watched in amusement, now wide awake. Mrs. Matthews was one strong woman, I'd give her that. I chuckled, still keeping one eye on Dar. I knew the second the guys and Kathy cleared out, he'd blow up. The only question was, how bad would the explosion be?

Two-Bit hopped out of Kathy's range, landing on Steve. Steve woke with a yell, trying to stand up but not quite managing it, considering Two-Bit was now sitting on him, cowering. Steve, sputtering in rage, tried to push Two-Bit off him, but Two-Bit wasn't budging.

"Call her off!" Two-Bit screeched at Darry, now using a very red faced and confused Steve as his shield. I roared with laughter, holding my stomach. I hadn't laughed this hard in a long time, and it felt really good. I looked up at Darry, hoping some of his inner-ice man had melted away by now. He glanced down at me, his eyes were steely. I sighed. Okay, no hope to get off free. I turned back to enjoy the last of the show, before my oncoming punishment was slapped onto me with iron-clad rules.

"Please! Ouch, woman! Leave me alone!!" Two-Bit pleased, finally getting off Steve and hiding behind his leather jacket.

"NO NOTE! You were GONE! You could've died!" Kathy paused in the middle of her rant and looked at me and Steve, her red hair hanging in front of her eyes and her cheeks red with anger. "It's very nice to see you both alive and in one piece, but please let me know next time before kidnapping my son for some evil deed, ok boys?"

We nodded, Steve rubbing his head and glaring at Two-Bit. I looked at him, a smile tugging on the sides of my mouth.

Kathy nodded, satisfied. Then, her hand darting out suddenly, she grabbed Two-Bit by the ear and dragged him toward the door. He tried to push her but, glowering up at him, she shook her finger and twisted his ear. Two-Bit howled in pain and walked out the door and down the porch with her, grumbling the whole way.

I walked to the screen door and stepped outside for a minute, waving goodbye. Then I walked in to see Darry sitting on the couch, his fingers laced together. I exchanged a nervous look with Steve.

"See ya?" he asked, his eyes concerned. I might have known without a doubt that Dar would never hit me, but Steve only went off his own experience. He didn't like to be touched, not even by his girlfriend. I had only seen him hug Evie once. He was so jumpy sometimes it scared me, wondering what his dad had done to him.

"Tuff enough," I said back softly, saluting him jokingly. Steve smiled, and with one last long look at Darry, he walked out the door and down the street, his head down and his hands stuffed in his pockets.

I turned around, breathing deeply.

"Listen, Dar," I began, fisting my hands in my hair. The silence was so thick it felt like a brick wall. I went to sit down by him, but froze when I heard him sniff. I felt my tongue stick in my mouth and my face heat up.

Darry was crying.

I awkwardly stretched my hand out to him, and then took it back, sitting down on the edge of my chair. _I ain't good at this; I don't know what to say when Darry cries!_ I thought in a panic, looking around for a box of tissues, something I could give him. I hadn't seen Darry break down since the day Pony asked if he was gonna send us to the Orphanage of Tulsa. Then he broke down and bawled like a baby, hugging us both so tight I thought my ribs were gonna break. This time was different, though. This time there tears were only for me, and because of me.

I threw all caution to the wind and scooted over so that our legs were touching, and hesitantly put my arms around his bent shoulders.

"Dar?" I said softly. He didn't answer, but he hunched his shoulders more and the shaking increased, along with the sniffing. I leaned my cheek against his shoulder, feeling small. I didn't know how to heal him. With Pony, it was a hug, a smile, a cuff on the head, and his smile would come back. Ponyboy just wanted to be loved, I knew that. But Darry…..Darry was a totally different story. He had always been the oldest, and the strongest.

He taught me everything I knew, but yet I didn't know how to make him smile, or cheer him up. Pony's heart was easy to fix, because I knew him inside and out. Darrel Jr., on the other hand, was like a old abandoned house I couldn't get into without tearing it down. It might take me some time to sneak in, watching out for the weak spots. But I would, for Darry.

"Darry, I am really sorry, I am…" I said, tightening my arm around him and reaching for the box of tissues on the side table, half hidden by a stack of coffee mugs.

He finally looked up at me, his eyes red. Darry smiled a little, wrapping an arm around me and resting his cheek on top of my head. He half sighed, half laughed as he rubbed his arm roughly across his eyes then looked straight at me, the softness melting and the steely-eyed brother I knew showing through. Inside, I let out my breath in a whoosh. Dar would take care of everything.

"You never do that again, you hear?" he said, shaking his finger in my direction. "Jesus Christ am I glad Pone doesn't run off like that yet…" Dar trailed off, his hand pausing on my head. Then he did smile at me, getting up slowly and groaning.

"Damn, I would kill for a cuppa joe. Whaddya say we run to Lucky's before we go get Pone, ok?" he said, snatching up his keys as he checked his reflection, frowning as he tried to rub dirt off his nose.

I did a double take. "We- we can go get Pony today?" I asked, hardly daring to hope. He nodded, smiling as he passed by me to grab a t-shirt, changing quickly and shoving his shoes on. I whooped, jumping up excitedly.

"Man, oh man!" I yelled, almost damn near popping a blood vessel, I was so excited.

He laughed as he picked me up, fireman style and jogged out to his rusty old pickup truck, throwing me in the passenger seat.

"Let's go, little buddy," he chuckled as he started the ignition.

I nodded and grinned, propping my feet on the dash and sticking my head out the window to enjoy the cool spring breeze that was blowin' past my face. Ponyboy was coming home, Darry hadn't killed me, and I didn't have to worry about anyone every hurting my baby brother again.

Today might not be such a bad Sunday after all.

**A/N: Hey guys! I am sorry I haven't been updating in such a long time, but life, what can ya do? Hopefully I will be able to post more often now that my finals are almost done with. Than you for reading and reviewing, it means so much. And a big stack of neon purple pancakes to my lovely Beta, Lo. Taylor. Without her, this chapter honestly wouldn't be very easy on the eyes. She taught me sometimes less describing words are really more. Thanks! Also, this chapter is dedicated to The Diamond in The Rocks. I hope it was ok I used your name, and didn't do anything with it that wasn't great *winks*. Please R&R, and I hope you enjoyed!**

**-Kait  
**

**P.S- Reviewing gets you Sodapop with a plate of purple pancakes!!! : D  
**


	14. Sunburns and Waking Up

Wow. Nobody kill me, ok? I'm so sorry it's been such an incredibly long time I've written anything :( I've been so busy! But I promise I'll finish this story out, I never meant to leave it alone. This story was my baby and it should get an ending. You guys have been so great, reading it, and I wanna do this for you guys! So here's one more chapter closer to the end. I know it's a short one, but it's still something :)

**Why don't we try harder than last time  
To dry our eyes and smile  
Someday, oh I'll make time  
Yeah maybe, but not tonight  
I'm trying as hard as I  
Can to believe you  
Don't lie**

**You don't get it  
This is it, your last chance to dance  
You don't get it, no **

**Lye- Josephine Collective**

Ponyboy's POV.

_I sat up with a start, my heart beatin' real fast, like a bunny rabbit's when it knows that there's a wolf creeping nearby. _

_I looked around as I stood up slowly, my body tense. I reached into my back pocket for my knife but it wasn't there._

_Oh, damn._

_My throat closed up as I took another look around. I knew where I was. I was by a lake-shore, an old rotting dock about 10 feet away, with a little boat was a beautiful summer night, stars sprinkled across the sky like freckles over Sodapop's nose. The air was sweet and warm, and I could hear little kids screaming and laughing far in the distance. Behind me was a long, wide, road, in front of me, a deep dark river. The moon hovered in the sky like a large glowing balloon, reflecting real pretty-like on the water.  
_

_My parents used to take us boys up here every summer for a month for two, before they died. It was their way of makin' sure we stayed out as much trouble as possible for the summer, but still have fun. So every year since before I could remember, the day after school ended, we'd all pack up the little Volkswagen we had and head out on the four hour drive to the lake.I was always squished between Soda and Dar for the long ride, but we always cranked down the windows as far as they went and let the breeze blast through the car. _

_This was one time of the year we were allowed to eat junk food, so we'd stop at one of the gas stations and our parents would let us pick out two "treats", as they called 'em, for the ride down. I'd always get the Cheetos and a Root Beer, and Dar would get Licorice Whips and a chocolate bar. Soda, true to his name and crazy nature, always went down the aisles and picked out the two wackiest named sodas he could find, and that was his pick. We'd eat it in the car and laugh, everyone sharing the candy around and laughing hysterically at Sodapop's wild stories and my Dad's jokes. He had been the funny one in my family, along with Soda. I ended up with my mother's eyes, Dar got my dad's personality, but Soda got the humor gene.  
_

_It was called Wish lake, after some old man, Bob Wish, who was the mayor when the little town beside the lake had just been built.  
_

_Soda and Dar and I used to bike way down the old dirt road, and try to pick up girls at the bond-fires that they held for the teens at the lake once a week, on Friday nights. All the local kids would come, along with the "summer-timers" as they called us. We were some of the kids that didn't exactly fit in, with out greased back hair and our plaid shirts and jeans. The kids out here wore shorts and were tan, with bleached hair. But it didn't matter boundary lines at the bond-fires, they'd blast music and we'd all talk and laugh and dance, and swim at the shallow beach right by the bond-fire pit. Us boys would come home high off the energy of a crowd of teenagers, smelling of cigarettes and booze, even though we were expressly forbidden by Dar to have any while we hung out near the water. My mother lived in fear we'd get reeling drunk and stumble into the water and drown, so if we came home even the slightest big buzzed, we were done for. _

_That lake, those summers were what I lived for when I was younger. I'd turned absolutely brown from being out in the summer all long, and so'd the rest of my family. We'd come home at the end of the summer sunburnt and smelling stale (the only washing machine was in town about a mile's bike ride, so we usually just washed our clothes in the lake).  
_

_But it was worth it. When we were at the lake, we didn't need alcohol to have fun. Just being with my buddies, my brothers, was enough. _

_I'd gotten my first kiss at the lake. I don't know how I'd forgotten that. Her name was Becky, and she smelled like soap and flowers. Her smile had lit up the dark. That lake, held some of my best memories and moments.  
_

_The sand crunched under my bare feet as I walked closer and sat, kinda nervous, on the dock edge. The wood creaked at me when I sat down but stayed strong. I smiled. My dad had been good with his hands, just like Dar was now, and he built it from nothing one hot Oklahoma summer. _

_I ran my hands over the splintered wood, tears coming to my eyes._

_Damn._

_When you missed someone, but they'd been gone for a while, it wasn't always constant pain. That was only when it was fresh and new and scary. After a while, you could go some days without thinking of them. There were times when you could do something you had used to do with them without the pain punching a hole in your heart._

_Then again, there'd be days I'd look at a flower and couldn't breathe because I'd be hit with an imagine of my mum sitting in the tiny community garden, a hat slapped over her curly hair and she'd glance up as the gang and I walked by to the lot, shade her eyes with her hand, and wave. I'd always wave back too, no matter if Dar or Soda acted embarrassed at this show of love in public. _

_I wanted just one more hug, one more wave that I'd never get. _

_There were times where'd I'd see a football and want to cry, knowing I'd never throw one to my dad and hear him cheer when I finally managed to tackle Soda, 'cos I was faster.  
_

_I sighed and took my hand off the dock, feeling small and alone, like I was locked in a dark room and no one had the key in._

_I got up and started walking away, feeling tears go down my cheeks like rain on a window. I didn't try to stop 'em, I was sick of being tough, an unfeeling grease. When you were one of us you rolled with the punches, laughed off the bloodshed, and wanted violence._

_I just wanted to belong to someone again. _

_But my parents were gone._

_I didn't even know where my brothers were._

_Hell, I didn't even know if I was still alive._

_

* * *

_

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Oh man, my head hurt. I tried to peel one eye open but then snapped it shut again, a real bright light slicing through my head and making it throb even worse. I groaned out loud.

Man, if this was heaven, I didn't want any part of it.

With a groan, I tried to sit up but didn't get all the way up. I flopped back down, my energy gone.

I was scared.

Where were all the sounds of my home? I couldn't hear the TV blaring with the Tulsa news station Darry always watched as he got ready for work, or Soda and Steve squabbling over who got the last beer, or the constant slam of the screen door. Our house was like a train station; people constantly coming and going. Dar always bitched how fast the screen door wore out because it was in use so often, but I knew he'd rather have young greasers crashing on our floor or couch than out of the streets in the early hours of the day.

Sometimes, on the sunny summer days, when everyone was out playin' football in the lot and I stayed home to read (Soda and Two-Bit always teased the mickey out of me for it, but I didn't mind,) I could even hear my mother playing piano. The sound would drift out the windows to the porch swim that I usually sprawled out on, and hung on the breeze before drifting away. I always smiled when I heard it, the noise like a hug, a little friendly wave from her to me, from heaven.

But there was no music now. The air here was silent and cold, like the graveyard. I forced my eyes open.

It was white and sterile and smelled like death here. Where the hell was I? My heart beat erratically as I looked around to find myself in a bland hospital room, needles stuck in my arm, hooked up to a machine that seemed to beep and stutter along with the beat of my frightened heart.

"Soda…?" I called, my voice coming out as a pathetic squeak.

Why was I alone?

_I know, I'm cruel. __ but no worries my little muffins, I'm gonna try to crank out another, longer chapter (whose point of view to you guys want? Darry, or Soda's?) hopefully today __ I love you all! Please R & R _


	15. Avezvous peur de la mort? Part 1

Hey guyysssss. I know, I am so sketch at this whole "finishing a story thing" but I lost my hard drive (which has my stories, my ideas, and is basically my life….) so I lost all the part of the chapter I was working on. Yeah, I know, FML. *bangs head against a wall* but I am starting over, so you guys can maybe get some closure with our favourite characters. And, in order to try and please you all (aren't you little muffins just oh so lucky!) I've decided to do switching points of view. ) By the way, this will come in bits and pieces as I write it, different parts. I hope you like part one, sorry it is just under 1k words :(

Sodapop POV

**I loved you; you made me, hate me.  
You gave me hate see?  
It saved me and these tears are deadly.  
You feel that?  
I rip back, every time you tried to steal that.  
You feel bad?  
You feel sad?  
I'm sorry hell no f*ck that!  
~Black Dahlia, Hollywood Undead**

I tapped my fingers real restless-like against the side of the car, paint chips an' rust hitting the cracked pavement every time my fingers twitched. Dar glanced over at me before looking back at the stoplight, his lips twitching up in a smile. With his easy grace, he reached over and messed up my hair, his laugh booming through the car. I frowned at him, shaking my hair back into place. Nobody touched my hair.

"C'mon, little buddy, no matter how often you jitter around like a 'fraidy cat this light ain't gonna change no sooner," he drawled as the light slowly flickered to green. He eased down on the gas and the truck rumbled under us, groaning as the engine tried to go faster. Darry was smiling again, which was nice. He hadn't smiled much since Pony had gone and landed himself in that damn loony bin of a place.

I glared at the chipped, faded blue hood. _Damn thing,_ I thought furiously. _Damn thing needs to get its act together an' get us to that hospital so I can see my baby brother._ I bounced again, looking at the city as it passed by in blurring colours. The cinema has its gaping doors open wide, the cool darkness of the theatre inviting Socs and Greasers alike in to take in a flick and eat nickel popcorn, buttery and hot. My stomach grumbled at the thought and I frowned at my stomach. How could I be hungry at a time like this? Pone was coming home today, and my stomach wanted FOOD? Nuh-uh. I saw Socs walking by in their madras and loafers, and Greasers chain smoking by light poles and leering at the girls walking by. I rolled my eyes but looked sadly at the two youngest, who were standing slightly apart from the group and talking. The older one of the two said something and the younger smiled, then tried to get the older one in a headlock. He dodged it, laughing and they play wrestled before the whole group of 'em started walking toward Dairy Queen, then just became blurs in the heat of the blindlingly hot city. I could feel my skin baking in the sun out the window, and all of a sudden I could feel tears burning in my eyes. I quickly wiped them away before Dar could see; he didn't need no more to worry about. Damn, I missed doing that kind of stuff with Pony. _Soon, _I promised myself. Soon, everything would be back to normal.

Finally, after what seemed like FOREVER but was probably only another 10 minutes or so, the car rumbled into Mercy Hospital lot. I felt a grin spread across my face like wildfire and I was out of the truck and running before Dar had even cut the engine. I bolted as fast as I could toward the door, my legs flying under me.

I could hear Darry behind me, giving into his excitement as well and running behind me into the building. I ran past the fake-red haired bitch at the front desk without a second glance and kept going until I reached Pony's hallway, I stopped and let Darry catch up to me, then, whooping, we started walking down the hall together.

Only to stop, our mouths dropping as we saw the scene unfolding two doors away from where we were.

Nurses were swarming around Ponyboy's door like nervous bees in white, leaving clouds of hairspray behind them as they tittered and gasped alarmingly. Two burly security guards were runnin' from the other way, their eyes wide. I could hear Ponyboy inside, screaming at the top of his lungs, as if they were stabbin' him or something.

"WHERE THE FUCK AM I? WHERE'S DARRY? SODA? I WANT MY BROTHERS!" he wailed as loud as he could as a lunch tray came sailing out of the doorway, making the nurses scatter and scream as one narrowly avoided gettin' covered in some squishy orange-looking stuff.

I took off again, only to run into a hairy, massive wall. I looked up to feel two arms clamp around the tops of my arms, stopping me. One of the guards, the younger, nicer looking one, looked down at me sternly.

"You can't go in there, boy. He's unstable." He growled, the sound comin' out of him like a roar out of a tiger. I shook my head back and forth, digging for wards to explain.

"No, sir, you..I…I gotta get in there!" I spluttered, trying to lunge around him to get to the door, where I could still hear Pony raising hell.

He shook his head seriously. Behind me, I could hear Darry having a similar conversation with the older cop, but his involved a lot more cussin'.

"You son of a BITCH, let me see my brother!" Darry roared. "I'm his guardian, for _chrissake's!" _His voice went up at the end of his sentence, reaching a yell.

All of a sudden, the noise in the room stopped. The ladies in white stopped milling around. Everything in our little bubble went quiet.

"Soda?" I heard a voice call softly, sounding about 5 years old.

"Ponyboy!"

Then I heard the nurses gasp and scream as I rounded the corner just fast enough to see my little brother collapse to the floor.


	16. sorry guys, I love you all!

Hey guys I'm so so honored so many of you like it! I'm so so so sorry I havn't updated it literally forever… I'm a bad person if you still wanna read this, I'll write more…but I haveta know if you want me to thanks darlings!

Xo Kait


	17. Avezvous peur de la mort? Part 2

Love is Misery.

Hi darlings. First off, I am SO grateful to each and every one of you for reading this story, and laughing, crying, and loving right along with our boys. It makes me feel so special to have people like you appreciate my hobby I know I haven't updated in forever…and I am SO SORRY. I promise I'll try to finish this. I started it when I was in 8th grade…and I should finish it thank you all for sticking with it! I promise I won't let you down. Xo Kait

Two-Bit's P.O.V

"Bet ya didn't see that one comin'

Cause I do as I please

And apologize for nothing.

My time is flying

But I'm still second to none.

Always shining the brightest

When I'm placed under the gun.

So here I stand,

The only son of a working class man

I won't be held back

I can't be held down."

-Sticks & Bricks, A Day To Remember.

Pony's POV

Oh wow, did my head hurt. I tried to open my eyes, blinking against the super bright light that was spilling through my window. I went to swipe at my eyes, but was stopped by a strange tugging feeling. I glanced at my hand, and almost passed out again.

There was a MASSIVE needle in my hand, the IV taped all careful to my wrist. I followed the line up to a hanging bag full of clear liquid. I shivered, all uneasy feeling. _Gah. I don't need this crap, _I thought blearily. I moved to rip it out of my hand, but a warm, but larger hand caught mine just as I shifted to tear it out.

"Careful, sport," a guff but loving voice said softly, somewhere near my left ear.

I looked wide-eyed at the huge bear paw enveloping mine. I traced up the huge forearm to meet a pair of large blue eyes. Dar.

I felt a huge grin bust out on my face, and even though it made my eyes tear up, I couldn't help it. Darry was here! Wait. Darry was here….

"Dar, how long have I been out?" I asked, feeling my rusty voice speak up my vocal chords. I sounded like I was trying to sing in a donkey's voice. I cleared my throat and tried to finish. He watched me, his face glowing happily.

"Dar, how is everyone? Soda? Two-Bit? Johnny? Dal….?" My voice trailed off as the last two weeks slammed themselves back into my brain. My heart stopped and I forgot to breathe for a moment, as a huge iron hand squeezed my chest, like a soc had just slammed me into the ground.

"Oh Dal," I managed to get out before I felt a few tears trickle down my cheeks. Darry fidgeted, a bit uncomfortable. I could see how tired he was from the huge shaows smudged under his eyes, and what Mum had lovingly called his "lumberjack look"- all scruffy and unshaven face.

He had never been good with teary kids, whenever Soda and I had cried after Mum and Dad died he usually just muttered and tossed us out back, where we had comforted each other, quietly. But this time, I saw something flit across his face, and then he squared his huge shoulders, looked me straight in the eyes, and gave me the biggest hug of my life. I melted into a puddle for a minute, and just let my big brother hold me. Then I shifted, finally noticing that my ribs were complainingly loudly in pain.

"Uh, Dar, ow…" I trailed off, gently trying to squirm away. Dar released me immediately, alarm creeping into his eyes.

"You ok, little buddy?" he asked, clasping my shoulder with his hand. I felt the bed sink a little with the movement, but I smiled and slipped my hand over his.

"Yeah Dar, I am." And I was. This last two weeks had been hell on wheels, and I wasn't really sure what had happened, but Dar was here, I was alive (although I did feel like I had been tap danced on with iron shoes…) and my family was together again. Well, actually…

I frowned, and opened my mouth to ask where Sodapop was, when a blurry figure streaked from the doorway to my bedside before I could fully blink, throwing itself over my bedrail and heartily squishing me.

I let out a might "oomph!" as Soda landed on me. Beside the bed, Darry's mouth opened into a perfect "O" of surprise before he threw back his head, laughing. The next ten seconds, my little quiet hospital room went from peaceful to crazy as the whole freaking gang piled themselves into my room.

"Pony, Pony, we brought you hair grease!" Two-Bit yelled as him an' Steve stampeded into my room.

Two-Bit and Steve were smiling and laughing in the corner, as they tossed a light yellow flower vase (that had once upon a time been sitting on my bed side table…) back and forth casually, Two-Bit stopping every few minutes to take a swig from a suspicious bottle he had mysteriously made appear out of thin air, but I didn't care, and Darry, who usually would have frowned on this copious liquor consumption mid-day, in a hospital, simply looked the other way, his eyes twinkling.

And Soda…well, I had never seen Sodapop look so happy. For the rest of that day, Soda didn't leave my side, talking with the rest of the gang, sure, but always glancing back at me every minute or so, as if he was makin' sure I wasn't going to spring up and race off again. Soda looked tired, and thinner, but he was burstin' with energy like I had never seen him before.

It made me smile.

I had my family back, and it was the best feeling in the world. When the stupid nurses finally let me go home at the end of the day, Soda proudly wheeling me out in a wheelchair, me protesting all the way that I could walk on my own, thank you very much.

"Darry…I can walk by myself. I'm not broke or nothing. Lemme walk, will ya? I feel stupid…" I protested, scowling up at Darry. Darry smile and kept walked with Steve, as Steve threw me a smirk over his shoulder.

Soda jostled my shoulder and I smiled up at him. "Pony, if you're good, I'll make you Mum's favourite chocolate cake when we get home…" he said sweetly. I ducked my head and shut up. Soda might not have been good at cookin' much, but he could make chocolate cake like no other. Yum.

Mean while, Two-Bit came up on my right, his face set in a classic Two-Bit pout. "This ain't fair, why does Pony get to ride in the wheelchair, my toe hurts, but the nurses wouldn't give me no goddamn wheelchair, this ain't fair, I wanna sit in the wheelchair…."

"SHUT UP TWO-BIT!" Everyone yelled at the same time, laughing their heads off. I couldn't help but laugh too, even though my ribs complained.

I was finally going home, and everything was starting to finally feel right again. We all piled into Dar's truck and headed home.

I know this wasn't long but I wanted to finish this chapter ;) Last and FINAL chapter up hopefully sometime later this week darlings. Xxxx I love you all


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